The Tree

Apologies to all. Due to the 4th of July holiday, Monday’s Poem of the Week is just arriving now. Hope it’s worth the wait, and that you all enjoyed your celebrations.

The Tree

Memory believes before knowing remembers.

  • William Faulkner, Light in August

Grassy earth bulges above.

Branches stretch away,

twig and fade in leaves.

dim with the other side

of light lapping underneath,

then all forever to fall.

He tastes the salt,

feels the heat sliding

up his back, gritty

bark runging curled knees.

The sun, unseen, throbs

at the center of things.

Face flushed with gravity

of blood, he senses again

in voices ringing up-

side down, outside in,

the presence like a breathing

closer than his own.

Shade tightens in a dome.

He scrunches

to that first curious pose

then flings himself swinging

like a bell’s pounding tongue

and calls out to the only

one he cares to show –

“Hey, Mo-o-o-o-om!”

Through the dark glint

of  her glasses she smiles,

then shouts from sunlight,

“I see you, I see you!”

Then the child’s spine shivers

in wonder, terror,  joy,

as though separate threads

silver, gold, black –

the void from self to soul –

were now woven into one.

John Savoie

This entry was posted in America, Beauty, Hope, Poetry, Thoughts & Musings and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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