A Life in the Day of a Tree

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

“Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly he work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces that make it a living thing.” John Stuart Mill

 “The clearest way into the universe is through a forest wilderness.” - John Muir

“It takes time for an acorn to turn into an oak, but he oak is already implied in the acorn.”- Alan Watts

“Storms make the oak grow deeper roots.” - George Herbert

“The axe always forgets. The tree remembers.” - Paulo Coelho

Predictably, I've had a few emails complaining, about a couple of recent poems. Reader, A G asks, “Who wants to read gay stuff on a general poetry blog?” Well, any lover of poetry will know that a poem has many layers, just like people. Does A G really believe that only LGBT folks are driven to live compartmental lives, to which not even kith and kin have access to all...?

Now, regular readers will know how I love trees…

A LIFE IN THE DAY OF A TREE

Once, we children would play 
in an old oak tree, stifling laughter
at the antics of passers-by…
now lovers, now friends, now strangers,
couples, singles, all sorts
from all walks of life taking the air,
unaware of our observing
every mind-body-spirit’s words and silences
likely to sharpen and shape us 

Oak leaves, anxiously whispering 
such facts and fictions as generations 
would make sport with us,
call it history, encourage scholars
to argue over, the rest of us
meant to take sides without losing tempers,
while simmering with rage
at page after page of political persuasiveness
further sharpening and shaping us 

Birds hover, only to fly away, fearful
of our presence, unaware we mean them
no harm, but, on the contrary
welcoming their cheeriness and beauty
into our consciousness
as trees worldwide have done, passing on
dreams of love and peace,
invoking the natural world since its first run-ins
with the cutting edges of humans

All grown old now, us kids, oak tree
older still, continuing to lend peeping eyes
and tongues mixed feelings,
yet to find a true voice or path to follow,
once starting to make sense
of such thoughts as cares ti share with us
before the world gets to impose
its own, providing powers that be time and space
to home in, sharpen and shape us

Yet, like a tree, the mind-body-spirit grows as it will,
no axe a match for heart-and soul

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022