Music Of The Ancient Oak Poem by Jayita Bhattacharjee

Music Of The Ancient Oak

A song of eternity flows from its cycle,
As leaves on the ground, lay scattered all around.
From an acorn, it spilled its deepest secrets,
With a light of faith in the music of life,
Trusting that life will unfold from its depths.

In the advent of fall, as vibrance begins,
The leaves get clothed, in yellow, and red.
Swirling on the ground, they cover the grass,
The fallen leaves, now carpet the earth.
Breaking the acorn, the seedling grew.
Thus, did the music, of an oak begin.

From the smoke of loss,
a piece of beauty emerged,
To tell the tale of a glorious rising.
In light of fierce beauty, it stands.
Something died in its sacred birth,
The home now lies in the trunk of an oak.

The bark, the leaves, the rustling in the breeze,
The furthering of heights, the deepening of roots,
Now the mighty oak is centered right.
Being grounded in deep is its joy and bliss,
Oh! an inescapable piece of pride.
The prairie wind's sound I hear,
How they blow through the tree.
A thousand leaves, clad in green,
Oh! how they dance sprightly in the breeze.

The mighty oak, steeped in strength,
Streams a song in my deep.
Unfailing in courage, in the winds of change,
As out of acorn, it grew so rich.
In silence, it smiles with understanding deep,

In the last moments, its leaves, in colors live.
Its fragrance it releases, to this earth it seems.
Come as it may, the gales of life,
Yet it stood tall as a mighty oak.
A leap of trust, it takes in its spirit,
As the song breaks the cage of time.
From an acorn it arose, to find its fullness,
To reach the sky with music of eternity.

Through the fallen leaves, a song does fly,
Spilling a music deep in my deeps.
In its youthful green, it swayed up high,
Shading the pilgrims, as wearied they sighed.
Faraway in the woods, in a solitude divine,
Among the leaves, its song does spin.
Woven are the lyrics through the play of leaves.

The courage that drips, from the trunk of an oak,
Therein I behold, a beauty in bravery in its deeps.
Blessed is its beauty, blessed is its strength,
So, I walk along the trails of its story.
Dense is its foliage, thick overhead,
Though the blaze stretched far,
The leaves seemed like a ceiling.
Though the air is hot, and the sky is ablaze,
Yet the curtain falls, as dense is its shade.
Holding itself in silence and dignity,
For long does it stand, in solitude of woods.
In silence, it gathers a joy so unfolding,
To reveal the living, its art in a forest.

The sun in brilliance, though was overhead,
Yet giving was the shade of a sheltering oak.
In the glory of giving, sacrificial is its spirit,
And I who roamed with a wandering mind,
Now pause and wonder in light of its living.
From the death of an acorn had risen a tree,
That towers over the grounds, to sing its truth.
Here in the solitude, in dense, dense deeps,
The ground so sacred, that bears the oak,
On this earth it seems, I find my treasure.

...'All I Ever Wanted to Say'...Excerpt

Music Of The Ancient Oak
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