Tree Ii Poem by Cyclopseven R

The tree stands free
dancing to the rhythm of the wind
that blows soothingly from every corner of earth
and gently the tree dances free.

An enigma in nature
she stands where she was born
carving within her memory
of the unforgettable secrets of nature’s history.

Passing clouds sprinkle the holy water
Shining sun sends forth the warm rays
night sky dotted with stars singing lullabies
waiting for the tree to sleep deep in the moonshine.

Hidden amidst her steady stay
are many things of human comforts
a house, a chair, a bed, a wardrobe
for man to live and lay his life by day and night.

A botanist’s inquisitiveness understands the tree’s silent
dissecting the language printed in her rings
he write books and marvel at her over a glass of beer
for him the tree carries live that satisfy his little desires.

A carver is waiting patiently for the tree to reach its prime
to greedily bring out the hidden patterns and statues
which, concealed within her bosom, safely
and sooner or later she has to succumb to human greed
who later tear her apart and sculpt his mind on her death.

The tree retains its serenity despite human animosity
because the pride that it lives daily
by giving and serving many travelers and crawlers and flies
seeking solace in her green thatched hut
uninvited, yet many visits her to quench their exhaustion.

She shall succumb
Yet she shall remain
with us all the time,
our breathes may evaporate
not the tree.