Dwell not on misfortunes
obsessions, rancor and
cynicism, memories age,
encoded in bark
I am a Tree.
Wrinkled and wise
rooted to the ground,
budding leaves of tears
I am but a Tree.
Seasons sow tireless seeds
flowing prated themes
not yet known but still
I am a Tree.
Ages past it seem
without end and rainbows
circle unshadowed skies
for history remains intact
I am but a Tree.
Written April 2010.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great, great poem. You reallly feel a tree and describe it. Thanks for sharing this fascinating poem.