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The Poet Tree
Folder:
Ramblings and other what-nots. It was interesting; incredible,
A tree inquired, of me,
"Would one, Indulge me?
--Investigate me, the poet tree".
"Does a tree despair,
does a tree desire?"
Doing as, it insisted,
I engaged, the poet tree,
"Emotion is, a part of me"
Rang back, to me--from the tree.
Could it be, a tree--
full of emotion as you & me?
A tree living, so lively?
With branches wide,
leaves waltzing, waiting--
to be green.
"Are you nice, or are you mean?
Do you discern if you're clean?"
I waited, nearby, a landing bee,
"I am only, full of glee;
I live in dirt, is that so--unclean?"
"I suppose not; nature is not, nasty or messy,
as you are, natural, never fussy".
"I see, and with irony".
Laughed, the poet tree,
"Should I see, had I--an eye?"
Wind, wisping the white branches,
I whispered, "How did you come to be?"
Gazing, it felt, staring upon me,
"My answer, a divine key,
I came not, from the sea,
Nor a magical, green, pea,
As you will, see,
'Twas--a seed".
Twas with a smirk, I shook my head,
as the poet tree bellowed, laughter, and I, red,
"Truly, a poet tree, without dread,
as nourishing, to the soul, as bread,
as one starves; or as a shed,
when storms roar, threatening to shred;
For this--glad you exist, after--I'm dead".
