The Next Day Poem by Cee Bea

in my modesty
I know glory,
only by its lack

I understand my
universe and everything within it
as only a ripple
destined to fade as I close my eyes


I heard the tree
that fell a hundred years ago

My hand feels life in the coarse bark
now covered in moss

though it fell
in a juxtaposition to all it knew as life
I know it for what it really is

I heard the fall…a mighty crack
and felt the ground tremble,
even if only as a passer by the next day

and I see its children now stand in silence,
never betraying their post
...looking down, paying homage
in a touching portrayal of duplicity

and beautiful truth of the everlasting