I Am
I am a tree,
Amongst many,
Growing in the backwoods,
As a person lost in a world of millions-
I stand proudly, and
Strong against the wind,
Bearing flowers in the spring and
Leaves, so green in the summertime…
In the autumn my foliage
Transforms to oranges, reds and browns an then fall,
Leaving me barren in the wintertime,
The storms that arrive so unexpectedly, I fear-
And even more so,
The forest fires that rage and that I have no power to stop-
Losing my branches, when lightening strikes I fear,
Or losing myself in an upsurge of flames-
I never know when my life could end,
Or when I would become none but a
Pile of sticks or logs
To which someone could light a match-
I am a tree, amongst many,
Though in some ways stronger than the others,
I am a special one, bearing flowers of a different color and
Branches that appear thinner and weaker
Than surrounding trees,
Though mine have yet to fall-
Someday a hurricane shall sweep through the forest and
Every tree shall be fallen to the wind-
Though I shall remain standing alone-
Fires may burn and storms shall come and go-
But my greatest fear is that
I shall never grow tall and scrape the magnificent blue sky,
Where angels sing and stars scintillate, and
That glorious sunrises and sets-
So much like those people who are angry and are
Always in the darkness-
It hurts sometimes to be special, even though unique-
As everyone fears those that are different-
Even if one is none but a tree, for
A tree that is different could be harmful and inevitably-
Someone will cut you down- and the flowers that once adorned you
Shall perish and be forgotten…
poem by Claudia Krizay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
The heart of a tree
With branches reaching out as if for a embrace
The tree may bow to nature with grace.
He stands alone when the wind blows strong.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
In winter's cold chill, You can see the tree stand still.
Leaves are gone but the tree stands strong.
Until winter turns into spring and the birds begin to sing.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eyes can't see.
Like the heart of a tree.
Through storms and the wind. Bowing with a graceful bend,
Until the sun shines again, still standing at the end,
The tree is like a true friend.
The leaves may fall, but the tree stands tall.
There are some things that the eye can't see,
Like the heart of a tree.
The old Tree's secrets
How many lovers sat together under the old tree?
If only the tree could speak.
The stories would be of weary travelers
finding a place of peace, and dreams in their sleep.
Stolen moments of lovers, perhaps a sweet caress.
A young man with a ring, a young girl said yes.
Tree I only imagine, I enjoy the guess.
Gentle breezes that lifted the leaves
to let them gently fall to earth.
Misting rain to meet the tree's thirst,
Perhaps two trees inter-twined are
Two lovers that were curst.
poem by Judy Arline Puckett
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Big Tree
Big tree
Standing tall
Against setting sun
Majestic silhouette
Geometer's delight
Deep rooted trunk
Branches reaching the sky
Tree depicts life...
Every leaf
Shape so unique
Defining tree family...
Magical colors applied
By Creator's bold strokes
With the brush of seasons
Amazing panorama spreads out
Everywhere and all around.
Flowers spring out
Beauty and fragrance
Magical transformation
Into fruits
Nature transports seeds
To far off lands
It's a new cycle
Trees..forest...life.
Big tree
Stands still
Stands waving
I keep watching
Its far reaching ways
Tree gives us life
Tree gives us shade
To rest and contemplate.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
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I'm Just An Ordinary Tree
My existence
start from a little piece of seed...
First, I was bury on the ground...
Then, I showed my two cute leaves up in to world...
But it didn't end just like that...
I grow... more and more...
With love, hope and care,
I became a tree...
Tree with many leaves,
if you need some shady circumstance...
Tree with a strong wood,
if you need me to make a good wardrobe...
Tree with a tight root,
if you want to make a solid foundation...
Tree with a sincerely pray,
if you need a support...
Tree with an everlasting presence,
if you need a friend beside you forever...
Tree with a dry branch,
if you want to share your tears...
Tree with a pure dew,
if you feel thirsty...
Tree with a warm wind,
if you get cold and alone...
Tree with a full color's flowers,
if you feel your life so black and white...
Tree with many hopes,
if you lost your dreams away...
But... after all,
I'm just an ordinary Tree...
By: Tree
22 May 2007,7: 02 PM
The Tree's Will
Planted firmly, and sprouting seemingly too fast,
The result was strong and beautiful.
Roots growing through the soil and getting stronger each day
The tree grew taller than all.
Standing tall through the wind and the rain
The storms and the droughts, beholding strength with pain.
One day a storm came, and through the wind, through the rain
The tree fought and came through with scars.
Feeling beyond repair, the tree stood there, looking for the sun in a black abyss.
Remaining strong, hope lingered on, as the tree held to the earth.
Limbs snapped, leaves flew, and gashes were left in it's skin.
But still, the tree's will grew.
poem by Carli Gibson
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Where have all the trees gone Dad?
Dad! When I was in school the teacher showed me a picture of a tree
I've never seen one of those before, tall and handsome and brown and green you see
Do you remember seeing a tree when you were young? My teacher says there were many
She says that they grew all over the world but now days there aren't any
What did they look like? Did they blow in the wind?
Did the leaves fall in the autumn or was it in spring?
How high did they grow? Did they sway to and fro?
Did they look pretty covered in winters first fall of snow?
Dad, teacher says they'll grow no more, she says the climate has changed forever
She says we're all poorer now and explained to us how we'll have to suffer together
I heard that there was a tree that grew as tall as a skyscraper
But they cut it down and mulched it up to make us all new paper
It would be nice to see trees growing proud and strong
Reaching up to the sky with their branches so long
But that's just a dream I know I'll never see
It's just a vision in a picture never to be reality for me
My teacher said there used to be birds that lived amongst the bows
They flew around from branch to branch but we don't have those either now
What are nuts and berries and fruit the trees all used to bear?
My teacher says they were things we could eat at the end of every year
Well do you remember seeing a tree when you were young then Dad?
The like of which I have just explained and a pleasure I've never had
What do you mean they died out long ago, long before you were born
Now I'll never know why we cut them all down and my heart will always be torn.
poem by Glenn Ford
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The Fear Of Fear
Fear is not what I am afraid of.
True, it is a frightful thing to fear;
But the fear of fearing fear is overwhelming
Especially when its form becomes sheer
Fear is like losing a tree of shade on a bristling day
Or losing your breath when you fall below the sea;
I fear this fear of fearing these fears
And it is this fear that is part and parcel of me.
Fear is like loving without being loved back,
Fear is like leaving without being left;
And the fear of loving and leaving and being loved and being left
Is opposed by the fear of not fearing anything
And being an empty vase, noisy and bereft
I fear not death nor do I fear life,
But I fear the fear of both as my peers;
If I could release one fear from my fears
It would be the fear of fearing these fears.
poem by Samah Khan
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Eternity
I am a tree amongst many- I once believed in giving, not taking,
Only dreaming of being a lithe spirit, capable of being reborn in
Any place and time, a soul loved by all, never to be forgotten,
Never would hurt, tell untruths, or to betray…
As would a gull soaring above the ocean nearly touching the sun,
To welcome the dawning of a new day, or the first blossoming tree in the spring,
Amongst a garden of roses and to behold a herd of deer
Dashing through the woodlands at the dusk of the evening?
I am amongst many dreamers born, not only in blatant reality,
None but a worshiper of nature- The sun has risen and set for an eternity-
I remain alone a spirit giving nothing but love and rebirth in any place
Close to all that is natural and created alone by God-
All that is truthful and all that brings joy, bounty and harmony to the woodlands
That defines purity and eternal life and rebirth of
All that evolves from the heart of the living-
I am a soul of God given grace untouched and unspoiled-
I call myself a shade-giving flower bearing tree-
I am proud to have brought adoration and honesty to our planet-
God granted miracles have preserved this world for eons,
Even in the darkness of night- the moon is full,
Shining its light through the purple-hued sky…
I am a tree amongst many, with so much goodness at heart,
Giving so many splendors to fantasize and so much bliss in reality-
I have made this world a kingdom of nature so much to dream of, and
So much more- never to be lost or forgotten-
I would grow until I touched the sky if I could-
Some say this world shall come to an end but I shall
Stand proud, tall and joyfully spreading life, grace and well-being
Throughout this magnificent universe-
I am a tree with a soul, bearing flowers in the springtime and
Giving fruit in the summer, feeding the hungry and giving shade to the homeless-
In my heart, this world shall rule the universe for an eternity-
I am a tree that shall never stop growing and
As long as trees are growing, deer are running freely and the
Sun rises daily over the mountains near the horizon-
This world shall never perish…
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Rose Tree Of Winter
In the cold winds of Winter she stands thorny and bare
In Summer large beautiful red flowers she did wear
The Rose tree of Winter not a pretty sight
At a time of year with litle warmth in the sunlight,
When the birds in the sunlit gardens will nest and sing
She will wear her new leaves and rosebuds of the Spring
As a tree the rose tree does not grow very tall
Compared to most trees she does seem very small
But in her full bloom none as lovely as she
In her cloak of flowers she's a beautiful tree
But in Winter she stands there by the garden wall
Of the garden trees the most forlorn one of all
And though it may still be a few months from the Spring
The white backed magpie on the blackwood tree sing
But without her leaves and flowers prickly looking and bare
The rose tree looks drab in the cool morning air.
poem by Francis Duggan
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My Destiny
Once I alleged there would be a
Destiny for me and
I would think of a tree bearing leaves
Unfolding in the springtime that would
Only touch the sky if clouds were dense as
Thunderclouds, perhaps-
Dark as fear and ominous- If fate would allow
I would reach upward on a solitary walk
At the dawning of each day and touch the sky
Before the sun came out from hiding from behind cragged mountains-
At daybreak a few stars still being visible-
I would wish upon one remaining star- My destiny being to
Find a safe place for myself in this world? Clouds so dense and dark-
As deceiving as promises made by those I once believed in
Before lightening would strike and thunder would clap
Would deceive me and their ghostly spirits still haunt me as
Wind would blow down that tree
That never touched the sky because this wind had blown and
Lightening struck it down?
If I could I would be a tree that
In the event of never touching the sky and being the victim of a storm
It would not matter because a tree
Cannot feel the pain of deception, fear and mistrust?
I would live my life as a tree blossoming every spring,
Leaves unfolding and then changing colors in the autumn-
Always beautiful to see but
Not knowing the depth of sorrow felt or the
Agony of loss even after having fallen-
Only because God did not give it a soul?
The sun shall rise over the mountains as the full moon
Bids the night farewell- before light succumbs the darkness,
I shall wish upon a star and if the stars are obliterated by clouds so dark and ominous-
I shall try to be thankful for my soul that was God-given- that
I can feel love and appreciation of all that is beautiful-
Even if all the people in this world slight, hurt and betray me-
I can appreciate the glory of the rising sun and adore the splendor of nature-
I still have myself and even if lightening were to strike me dead,
My soul shall live on forever….
poem by Claudia Krizay
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The Little Tree
A very faithful farmer,
Planted a small seed,
Where in a distant field,
It grew into a tree.
This tree had leaves of laughter,
As it rustled in the wind,
Its sound of many whispers,
Were voices of many friends.
Its branches were far reaching,
Its limbs, like little hands,
That touched the lives of many,
As it grew upon the land.
Its flowers bloomed in sunshine,
-They were countless little smiles,
That offered joy to others,
If but only for a while.
For the Farmer who was helping,
His little tree grow tall,
Knew of a better orchard,
The best one of them all.
Se he placed His hands around the tree,
And lifted it with care,
He took it to an orchard,
Where He himself was near.
The tree had all the sunshine,
Its leaves were there to stay,
Its flowers bloomed in happiness,
Every single day.
The Farmer loved the little tree,
Far more than people knew,
Now it lives forever,
In our hearts and Heaven too.
-In loving memory of Charles McMichael
poem by Jean Penner
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Destiny
Once I alleged there would be a
Destiny for me and
I would think of a tree bearing leaves
Unfolding in the springtime that would
Only touch the sky if clouds were dense as
Thunderclouds, perhaps-
Dark as fear and ominous- If fate would allow
I would reach upward on a solitary walk
At the dawning of each day and touch the sky
Before the sun came out from hiding from behind cragged mountains-
At daybreak a few stars still being visible-
I would wish upon one remaining star- My destiny being to
Find a safe place for myself in this world? Clouds so dense and dark-
As deceiving as promises made by those I once believed in
Before lightening would strike and thunder would clap
Would deceive me and their ghostly spirits still haunt me as
Wind would blow down that tree
That never touched the sky because this wind had blown and
Lightening struck it down?
If I could I would be a tree that
In the event of never touching the sky and being the victim of a storm
It would not matter because a tree
Cannot feel the pain of deception, fear and mistrust?
I would live my life as a tree blossoming every spring,
Leaves unfolding and then changing colors in the autumn-
Always beautiful to see but
Not knowing the depth of sorrow felt or the
Agony of loss even after having fallen-
Only because God did not give it a soul?
The sun shall rise over the mountains as the full moon
Bids the night farewell- before light succumbs the darkness,
I shall wish upon a star and if the stars are obliterated by clouds so dark and ominous-
I shall try to be thankful for my soul that was God-given- that
I can feel love and appreciation of all that is beautiful-
Even if all the people in this world slight, hurt and betray me-
I can appreciate the glory of the rising sun and adore the splendor of nature-
I still have myself and even if lightening were to strike me dead,
My soul shall live on forever….
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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Queen's Flowers
During the month of April
Tree after tree in full bloom;
Mauve flowers, pushing out in plenty,
With copper pod yellow flowers on top
Here and there - taller, larger trees.
A solitary bread-tree flaunts its pretty leaves,
Bunch of bell-tree flowers intruding through;
Nearby a frangipani tree with white-streaked red flowers
Bougainvillae and railway creepers on the fence
Along the pavement where I walk.
Line, color, motion, light and shade
Thrill me: what my eyes see each moment
Constitute a better painting than
Any of the greatest of Masters.
Alas, it is evanescent!
13th April 2007
Bandra-Kurla.
poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph
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The tree that knew me.
My tree will know it all
The tree of my childhood
With the endless branches
And the many whispers
Time that it can only measure
My tree remembers
The boy with the wind in his hair
The boy with the crazy laughter
The boy with the fear of living and of lifes unknowns
The boy I used to be
Before the internet or the mac
Playstation Nintendo and games that attack.
My tree remembers me
Clinbing its branches into the sky
Hung on its strong limb
A swing
Of rope and wood.
Telling me I should
Swing as high as I could
Touch the weightless sky
On the magical piece of wood
I can fly and pierce the sky.
My tree remembers
Red Light
Green light
Outdoor street light
Before
My first crush or even a kiss
Dodgeball
And street baseball
Red rover
Red rover
Please come over
And play
Hide and seek
Take cover
And be meek
In my tree
Is everything I want to be.
Imaganary places
People
Creatures
And mystical things
High In my tree
I can see the world
But no one can see me...
My tree remembers me
The boy I use to be
My tree does not know what happened to me
My life has no room for fasanations of fantasys
Now complacted full of responsibilities
I have no time
To many dead lines
My tree looked at me
And said this is where you should be..
One day I drove hurriedly by.....
The pain of progress has its cost
And my tree has lost its spot
It was no longer needed for shade and play,
And its slow pace way
Was its end.
In my heart that tree and me are not appart.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Leaf
A single season of life
Borne of spring’s dew, released on fall’s winds
Great oak’s life running through its veins
To the forest, a gift of motion and color
Great tree, expanding out, gripping its earth
Dancing slowly in the currents of time
In an instant, illusions of stillness
Basking in brilliant sunshine
Flowing feathers in the music of the night
Silt carried by water
Returning to roots once more
Trunk, branches, ever thinner, expansive
Ever softer, edges of fragility
Branches holding mirrors for tree’s image
From the tree, our image of leaf
From the leaf, our image of tree
Leibniz' monad reflecting the whole
poem by George Kassabgi
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~~It was May, The Summer of my 12th Year~~
My fathers' field
acre upon acre of hay
barren in May
from winters blight
perfect for me to play
~~
Flat land
as far as I could see
except for one huge pine tree
a young boy, idealistic still
I thought this tree was grown for me
~~
I climbed the tree most every day
climbing right to the very top
branches formed a perfect seat
magically sitting there
time would stop
~~
Wind would blow, branches creaked
the tree and I swaying with the breeze
protected in my tree
ignorant of life's confusion...
its little ambiguities
~~
Now I wonder, as I sit
in these my twilight days
if only I could travel back
to that my 12th year in May
to hear the wind, smell the pine
and feel the boughs as they sway
~~
I would love to whisper one more time
to my very special tree
thank you so for keeping me safe
and all the memories
but most of all for the excitement
and the passion for feeling free
poem by Peter Shea
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Sonnet – Don’t Be
Don't be the fallen leaves, so young and green;
Don't be the buds that never can flower;
Don't be the twigs that always remain lean;
Don't be the flow'rs that dropp with each shower.
Don't be the branches growing very long;
Don't be the tree that never blooms at all;
Don’t be the nests that disallow Bird-song;
Don't be the fruits that hit the Earth by Fall.
Don't be the trunk hollowed by Birds, white-Ants;
Don't be the crown that can't get Sun or Rain;
Don't be the tree that grows not straight but slants;
Don't be the roots that prop the tree in vain.
Don't be the tree that grows on marshy-land;
Just be a tree secure in Maker's Hand.
poem by John Celes
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Suicide Tree
You see those trees,
Standing big and tall,
Some are bent,
Because they are begining to fall.
The lightning strikes,
And hits the tree,
Some may fall,
But others don't break free.
The bullies are the lightning strikes,
The victoms are the trees,
This is what life is,
What happens when you break free.
If you see a tree that's fallen,
It broke free,
To tree heaven,
A suicide tree.
poem by Alicia Meyers
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The girl I used to be
My tree will know it all
the tree of my childhood
with the endless branches
and the many whispers
My tree remembers
the girl with the wind in her hair
the girl with the crazy laughter
the girl with the fear of living
the girl I used to be
before
In my tree
everything I want to be
will be
In my tree
I can see the world
but no one can see me
My tree remembers me
the girl I used to be
before
poem by Pia Andersson
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from A Fallen Tree All Make Kindling' (dutch Proverb)
Whenever I sit under a tree I’m in my grandpas arms
My grandpa was like a tree with his strong and silent charm
He would shelter the world under his shade
And in the harshest storm he just merely swayed
He was like a tree but not the ones with big flowers
For his beauty was endurance it lasted more than mere hours
My grandpa was a tree the kind with big leaves
The kind that when cut down the whole forest grieves
He was like a tree big and gentle
He sat there and listened kind and parental
And though he was the tallest tree all around
He never looked down on the ones on the ground
My grandpa was a tree his love ran deep like roots
So even when cut down we still have loves fruits
Wildflower
Amongst grass and tall weeds-
You show your face alone-
Petals violet as the eyes of a goddess-
Dancing in gentle motion in
The quiet breeze of late summer-
You could have been human but
You are far too exquisite – as
Lovely as a shining star, although less elusive-
Bowing shyly to the passers by,
You grow in solitude.
Uniquely bashful as my own persona
Fearful of the world surrounding-
Isolated form other flora- you stand with apparent pride.
I have often wondered if
You are as heartrendingly frightened and as
Lonely as I had been many seemingly eons ago-
Casting your shadows upon the earth…
As far as I can envision
Are flowers and more flowers and so many trees-
Evergreens, maple trees venturing with branches
Outstretched towards the heavens
In all of their glory attempting with utmost delight to
Touch the sun, or
Hiding from the world in abject sorrow,
As the branches of a weeping willow tree might do-
I could shed my own tears in desperation,
If I had petals they would wither and fall to the ground,
Leaving none but a stem to perish as the cool autumn air may
Wrathfully demolish me as
My own delusions have nearly destroyed the essence of my being-
I am none but a barren stem myself, once as young and striking as you can be.
In this subtle moment-
I can feel the pain of my anguish as I glance up towards the sky as
You lift your fine, but deceptive countenance upward as
Night sets in and when that full moon rises and
Stars commence to scintillate,
You shall become as invisible to this world as I have become-
Apathetic people shall walk and pass you by,
As they have often done to myself when I was crying out for help and was suffering-
Now I am so like you because I am void of all emotion-
None but a wild flower I am myself-
Pleasing to the open eyes of humans but so angry at those who follow me as
I walk this path alone-
Someday I will die and it will be as if I had never been-
I may see you when you also leave this planet-
Hopefully chanting melodies of joy and relief to be void of all contact
With other living beings and
Fighting not to burn in the hell beneath us-
Raging a continuous battle is what life is really all about-
I can see a uniquely brave and charming air about you-
Keep on growing as long as you are able-
You are far too lovely to be an entity of this putrid and untrustworthy culture-
If you have any heart-
Fall in love with yourself as I have done-
I tell you in all honesty it is the only way to survive in these lurid and
Disdainful surroundings-
Let your petals flutter in the wind and
Never feel shame-
Never weep-
Laugh and sing in the balmy late summer air.
Someday may we meet in another world
Fabricated for the two of us alone-
Both our hearts shall beat with utmost happiness, and relief to be
Living in isolation,
For to love and fend for ourselves is
The only way to carry on-
When night sets in and stars scintillate-
Let your stamen glow in the glory of the moon- if at all possible-
My delicate and most precious wildflower-
So much like myself-
In unity with nature as we both can be- and
As heart wrenching as living in this place may be-
Keep growing until you touch the sun-
May we never fade away-
As our destiny is far too mysterious…
Claudia Krizay
poem by Claudia Krizay
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