A tree divided, still can stand
two selves fight each
other
for light and
domination
but neither live
without the base
from which they parted
Even a young lodgepole pine
can
divide against itself
growing fast and
strong
a few remember
but most forget
the ones who brought
them here
Trees reach an age
when parents die
they go on independently
along their middle-age
path
translucent
backlit in their
finest view
other times they try
the same
but sunlight makes
them lovely
Only a few among
the myriad aspen leaves see past the present to prophesy October while still in
August, to see their coming beauty at end of summer and the fate of all their
kind. Only a few can see ahead. The others carry on with matters of this
present life.
while the out-of-focus
get ignored
they are just as
lovely
but the camera doesn’t
care
The Ancient of
days, the Rock, precedes them all, looks over the trees, having known
the millions gone.
the millions gone.
but to where?
neither tree nor
visitor knows
only the rocks know
the two-billion-year-old
rocks
they think they know
for they have GPS
and maps and photos.
Oh yes, the hikers
did their research
they pass me going up as I descend
knowing their
destination
heavy packs pull them
back
up they go to
where I’ve been
One lags behind his group
and stops to talk
excuse to his friends
for not keeping up
I gladly accept his
ruse
were I were in a group
like him
I’d use photography
for excuse
pack too heavy
his feet in shape for
city streets
his friends will wait
and I will wish
this infestation of
mountain pine beetles
it kills the old
and the young go on
you can hardly see
the ground
for fallen bodies
beyond the current
tragedy
better times surely
lie ahead
we survive to get
there
hope it is that
drives us
onward, ever onward
Michael Angerman is
making a map of nightly locations, as he has done for many of my trips. Please see
Michael's Map
Soothing for the day
ReplyDeleteSoothed by a tree who takes it all without emotion, or so they say.
DeleteYour words and your perception are true to my thoughts. There is no better way to explain the how and we need to listen
ReplyDeleteWe hold these truths to be self evident--that some things trees do, we do also.
DeleteDear Sharon,
ReplyDeleteI enjoy your blog so much, and your poetic voice is so intimate. I feel I am there experiencing alongside you. What beautiful and unifying ideas you impart to us lucky voyeurs from the easy chair. I love your personification of the trees and how you relate them to our life cycles and human development. The rock as God, the trees at midlife, the divided tree into separate selves...."neither can live without the base from which they parted." Exquisite, beautiful, true. Be well, and safe, dear friend, kindred spirit. Kathy Leonard
cess
Kathy, I appreciate traveling with fellow voyeurs. Strange sounding no doubt, since I travel alone, but a few understand. You get the pictures and even the thoughts they inspire in me. You who do this are my companions.
Deletewhat a vantage point you have here, as if the centuries speak in silence, sign language revelations demonstrations of witness to ravages of time and epidemic, inner distress, and still the young new hopes almost innocent of the past but with instinctive creativity contain a wisdom to endure. a flower might seem fragile but personifies our mysterious flourishing...endurance perhaps inherited from the crystal forms found blossoming in rocks... i hope hope is visionary and the gold of October orchid like grows wild in our hearts. in the dark here in early morning hours the human striving...the hikers surprise us like our dreams they seem to walk with their own purpose...to strive.. aside from the rooted nature that the must crave ...they have come to climb. reminds me of a theology teachrrin my high-school days, philisophical he got my attention..pacing determined with his message. humans and their one distinction from the rest of nature. to see their own laughability...it always lightens my load when I think back to this perhaps a kind of enlightenment that is a bloom or leaf color change or dawn .almost sunrise. what color does to life to a forest ...and a human becomes an artist even...with self revealing words or a flowery hat?
ReplyDeletethank you for sharing your walks and musings here and for even appearing in our virtual world... with a smile
good almost morning here, past 2 am I hope these words written in the dark before they disappear are decipherable
dream stuff
we sleep to wake
and dream again
love Kathabela
Dear Kathabela, At 2am you write to me and to a world of morning onlookers. At 4am your time, 5am mine, I answer. We live in seemingly different worlds, and yet the trees and flowers and hikers of mine, spark remembrances and similarities in your morning musings. Our worlds look as different to us as mine does to a bear and yours does to a cityfied squirrel, but to us, the only ones who see our own laughability, they are similar. I pace predetermined with mountain meadow message, while you see among my visionary aspen tree, October orchids in our hearts. Let it alway be, and differences depart.
DeleteLove,
Sharon