The Red Tree Poem by Thomas Stearn

The red tree, tall in its superior elegance,
Effortlessly glowing, radiant in the golden light
Like a fiery phoenix rising from it's
Sleek smoky ashes, reborn.

Leaves of scarlet and of blood moon,
Young in mind and ferocious in spirit
Rest delicately on the silver branches,
Of frail bodies, made ancient from time.

Wind brushes against the red tree,
Parting leaf from twine, falling,
Like lost souls singing their last song
Of dawn before their final rest.

Fluttering into the decaying sea below,
Soon to be suspended, frozen in time,
Like golden rays of a thousand suns
Sparkling under the phoenix gaze.