You'll find this poem in my Goodreads writings, but I thought I'd post it in my blog, as well. There's always more than the surface meaning in poetry. This case is no different. It's not one of my most cheerful pieces, but it does touch on how lonely humanity can be sometimes. Just wanted to share.
A Tree's Lament
The breeze is balm to new and perfect branches
A soft caress and gentle lover’s touch.
But twisted, knotted scarred and gouged
The blemished branch seeks solace just as much.
Reaching, straining, waiting, pining
Alone and left to bear the singe of sun
And witness to the ages may grow calloused
Deafened to the breeze that scarcely comes.
But once, or twice, in some false start the wind
May blow off course and brush the weathered limb.
And sighing in its momentary bliss,
The tree will feel the touch and know a kiss.
Then, reviled to see what it has done,
The breeze will part as soon as it has come,
But leave the sage a memory to keep
And hope alive in winter’s frozen sleep.
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