If It Isn't What It Should Be
When a tree begins to grow...
Is it nurtured to seek approval?
Does it do it to get that from other trees?
Or does it just grow to be what it is?
To grow to be what it is freely,
With only God to please.
And if it isn't what it should be...
What and who is there to correct it?
What recommends or suggests to it what it must do...
To become what it is and comfort it too?
And if it isn't growing in faith...
Does God choose to get moody,
And brood?
Observing this with attitude?
Insisting Mother Nature refuse it,
Any assistence on a 'menu'...
Kept constantly reviewed.
When a tree begins to grow...
And decides not to produce branches.
Or allow a leaf or pine needles to bloom...
What affect would that have on other trees observing?
Will they begin to feel,
Maybe that tree is not deserving?
Will they make attempts to move away from it?
Or will they just let it sit...
Doing nothing to fulfill its purpose?
As the sky beckons,
To give it space and room.
Will the other trees observing this...
Watch another tree rot,
To not exist?
How long will a forest of trees,
Put up with it?
And what about the purpose that tree has here on Earth?
Who and what becomes affected...
When that tree does not fulfill its worth from birth?
A connection becomes neglected.
And the affects from that can be expected to reflect.
Somewhere in time to be ultimately discovered.
Uncovering what has been revealed,
To stir up some kind of backlash in protest.
However...
Shouldn't something about this process...
Make 'something' upset,
And furious about the lack of respect shown?
Or,
Does it condone it like us humans do?
By just looking away...
Only to complain about the shame of it all.
Or...
Does it one day become furious?
Like Mother Nature is showing now...
By unleashing Her attention grabbing disgust,
Unexpectedly disrupting as She fusses...
With all of us!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
The Smallest Leaf
Consider the way of smallest leaf
That grows on the biggest tree
Humbly serving in the life it lives
Just from planting a tiny seed
Serving from the lowest to the highest branch
With total faith to the tasks it’s given
Devoted to dress the naked tree
By the reason that it is living
Enduring the rush of unnatural storms
As the whistling wind sustains its blow
And loyal it hangs through the burning heat
As its maturity starts to show
While its colors adorn the autumn trees
And a new season begins
Where drooping trees portray the scene
That its life is near the end
A call to destiny pulls the leaf
From all thoughts of what could be
Replaced by a bud that will grow in time
As the tree hopes for a bigger leaf
Strong stands the tree that rejects the leaf
After a lifetime of servitude
Though it serves no more value on the tree
The tree still needs it for food.
poem by Kelvin Gene Lee I
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Trees
Trees, please me
To sit and watch them grow
As from a seed,
They do breed,
And from the Earth and Wind they grow,
Reaching up towards the clouds
And swaying in the breeze,
It always makes me feel so proud,
To sit, and watch a tree.
Earth is the Father,
Protecting his precious child,
While Mother is Nature,
Giving protection from the wild.
Trees, please me
Living from a seed,
Living in awe,
And growing so tall,
Entertains both you and me.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Only Immortal
From a tiny dark seedling a tree begins to grow
Into a huge tree with large branches in fifty years or so
It does not need help from Humankind Nature does best on her own
A tiny seed blown in the wind by Nature is self sown
To kind Mother Earth who feeds us all respect we do not pay
We pollute the air we pollute the seas and every Waterway
But what we do to Mother Earth to our own selves we do
The weather temperatures rising every year by a degree or two
We are like Nature's Seasons to life we come and go
The sharp scythe of the reaper is destined to lay us low
Immortality for Humankind perhaps based on a lie
We must return to Nature since we are born to die
The greats of human history the life from them long gone
But Nature lives forever she just goes on and on.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Sun -de- Light
Sorry but i must be damn,
on this feastive,
to everyone's delight,
excuse me shorty, (son)
to the crush, of the crump
cake cheese,
money fall far from the trees must be,
earth sin,
if i can complain,
plant this seed next to this greenre,
i much say it with a rush.
and let the sun come to delight,
and say that you are peach, (the son)
to a tree, (mother) of course,
winter to season, you sparke a connection
sonnie that is all right! ! !
smile for the camera! ! !
(father) a son, we will have making luv to sun up to sun down...
and sonnie this the light of the watch your grandpa,
gave to me under this tree,
your grandmother, my mother first came to be
and know at this tree.
i call this Tree 'sun de light'....
Our family Tree.
poem by Louis Borgo
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Mantree
Man & Tree.
There was a spruce tree in the forest, he had
watched it grow from spindly sampling to
a handsome young tree, and thought of it as
the son he never had.
But shortly before Christmas it disappeared
he went to the market in town where they sold
hundreds of trees for those who want the real
thing, but couldn’t find it there.
After the festivities he found his tree on a dump,
green needles gone, now it was brown, he took
the dead plant home and used as kindling to lit
the fire on cold, soggy days.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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When My Dreams Say, ' We Are No More There
When my dreams say, ' We are no more there'
I shall sail unto an island far off.
There I shall have the sapling of a dream tree planted
And it will grow.
When my dream tree begins to bloom
I will never pluck its flowers ever,
So will when its fruits begin to ripe
I remain hungry and thirsty there.
I shall lie in the shade of the tree
Without ever dreaming to have a dream for me.
Then I shall climb its branches and see for myself
The vast expanse of water green or blue.
I shall hoot from the top of it like an own
Blind often or blinded by the dreams of the past.
I shall shout unto the skies blue
About having dreams aplenty and not still having them.
When I once return to the home in the mainland,
I shall carry one hundred fruits from the dream tree,
I shall give them to men and women I like most
And nay, I will never give them to children ever.
I shall play hide and seek with children
And shall tell about the need for climbing the dream trees
Which will grow and touch the sky once
Even as they might still be dreaming a lot.
But I am afraid, friends,
Even as my dreams have begun to fade out
My island withers out further
And I am left with a rudderless boat
To sail unto that green paradise of my Utopia!
poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Foreign Roots In Desert Fall
Foreign Roots in Desert Fall.
It is sad to watch the big tree wearing a vast crown of hubris,
casting demonic shadows it allows nothing else to elevate.
Blows leaves of steel and stop anything that may help a small
bush grow. Once this tree was admired, an example how fast
arid land, fit only for the native Arabs, olive trees and goats,
grew into ten thousand blood dripping roses. In time,
countries far away came to fear this tree’s voraciousness its
boughs try to strangle the world; it is as it needs to govern us
to feel safe. Until we saw its weakness: ” This is a frantic tree,
a foreign plant in agony it has lost its purpose, has no ethics.
Worse of all its bark is scabby, roots are shallow; the tree can
tip over if our anger and disgust get to be a lashing hurricane,
which upend the tree; and its leaves will forever restless rustle
on the road to nowhere.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Small Trees
I am little like the small trees,
These are at least bigger than flowering plants,
The richness of theirs is far superior to us.
Since they are richer and we are taller,
The magnificent colours shine as they do.
Greenness is our nature as trees,
Whilst they are always colourful
More than us.
The tree of bigness is a lethal organ,
One we sit by and watch growing older.
Then the small trees subjugate the other trees
Far smaller, but we are supposed to respect
The bigger trees, they are certainly not the biggest.
The best of us are longer in health,
Whilst I am little for I am a small tree.
poem by Naveed Akram
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The computer tree- algorithm (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
A free tree is never rooted
Infinite complete binary tree
A finger tree has internal nodes
Each one in this tree has child nodes
And their connection is a walk
Parents and children walking the tree
Nodes without children are called leaves
While roots are leaves for the finger trees
Very intelligent words tree
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence
Adaptive merging operation
Implementing finger searching trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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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
Algorithm of a tree (Sextuple Crystalline Poetry)
(A two line image poem, often with a title, in which euphony is the key factor.
Each line may have 8 or 9 syllables to make a total of seventeen)
A free tree is never rooted,
Infinite complete binary tree.
A finger tree has internal nodes and
Each one in this tree has child nodes.
And their connection is a walk,
Parents and children walking the tree.
Nodes without children are called leaves,
While roots are leaves for the finger trees.
Very intelligent are the words tree,
Trees-no one-to-one correspondence,
Adaptive merging operation,
Implementing finger search trees.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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A Pleasant Autumn Day
A pleasant Autumn day of wind and sunshine
And yellow leaves depart their trees and fall
To Mother Earth who silently receives them
And wattlebirds on flowering gum trees call.
On this quiet side street of inner suburbia
The leaves are dying on the deciduous tree
But were i a poet I'd put my pen to paper
And write of the great beauty that i see.
For Nature's beauty can be found in strangest places
Far from the countryside it can be seen
Deciduous trees are golden brown in Autumn
And gums and wattles rich and evergreen.
And many urban people too love Mother Nature
And of workings of Nature there is much to know
They love to hear the birds sing in their gardens
And take pride in plants and trees they helped to grow
I respect those who respect Mother Nature
The damage done to her they try to mend
For Nature brings her beauty to all Seasons
And to every Nature lover I'm a friend.
In quiet side street in inner suburbia
Deciduous leaves to Mother Earth drift down
And wattlebirds are calling on the gum trees
And Mother Nature too lives in the town.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Family Tree
we grow like evergreen tree
father, mother, daughter, and son
I'm only leaf on the branch family
brother, sister
the unseeing fate plants us together
wedding, birth, and funeral
blood tells no doubt
caring but annoying
there are laugh and fight in the same room
misunderstanding then forgiving
love and hate blurred into one
torn but longing for home
there are tears and comfort from the same pain
one can not judge all, one can not separate all
the root will never be destroyed
though the leaves fall or the branches die
it will grow entwined with other trees
making canopy in the wide forest of the world
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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A Family Is Like A Tree
A tree is like a family it starts
out very small but it soon begins
to grow and the family too also
grows.
The tree starts out with small branches.
A family ita a child.
as the years go by they have all
grown together.
Soon the tree has been generated with
new branches and too the family expands
not with branches, but generations.
.Their both so much a like in so many
ways., if nurtured and taken care of
they both will grow straight. and tall.
And generate many new branch
and many more generations too
come as the tree grows old
some branches will die and fall off.
When the generations of a family
get old they too will die off.
But both will leave something of
themselves behind.
.
To live on for many generations of
life and many generations of branches..
GAYLE GOFF
2008
poem by Gayle Anne Goff
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Examples
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke mother nature to the tree
As it stood so proudly and ever so tall
As though defying to all that it would fall
Will you place your roots deep into the Earth
Then other trees like you will then give birth
Spoke once again mother nature to the tree
Tell me please what type of example will you be.
What kind of an example will you become
Spoke the mother wolf unto her young
Will you be majestic and run fast and free
Running in packs to provide for your family.
Or will you become a mother like I became
But swearing to all you will never be tamed
While fearing no one in the the moonlight or the sun
So please tell me what type of examples will you become.
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke the mother to her daughter upon her knee
Will you be a loyal and devout and virtuous woman
Never doing the things that a lady shouldn't
Being honest and caring through the days of your life
Then being truthful and trusting when you become a wife
And will you become a mother just like me
Please tell me what type of an example will you be.
What kind of an example will you be
Spoke GOD to mother nature as she planted the tree
And what kind of an example have you become
Spoke GOD to the she wolf as she spoke to her young
What hind of an example will you then be
Spoke GOD to the mother with her daughter on her knee
The young ones will do and become from what they see
As the examples will be you spoke GOD to all three.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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The Leafless Tree
Life - the life of my company started with an idea, much like planting a
seed that began the life of a single tree.
The tree slowly develops and occasionally produces a leaf, while all alone
primarily still a leafless tree.
The tree continues to grow and produce more leafs, this is quite indicative
of individual growth the makings of a vibrant tree.
Braving both fall and winter the tree remained leafless; however, prosperity
occurred during the spring and summer overshadowing what was
obviously a false weakness.
Prosperity revealed itself through the production of countless more leafs,
nature's demonstration of talent and commerce, the spectacle of a
completely leafed tree.
(The Leafless Tree poem represents both hope and a positive outlook on the struggles of entrepreneurs; from their humble beginnings to their rising
success stories in ultimately inferring 'never to give up.')
(Originally created December 2002, Irving, Texas)
poem by John C. Sudds
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My Mama Did Not Raise No Fools
Why do I daily,
Make it my business...
To seek and hug a tree?
And ignore those who snicker about this,
With a laughter I can hear..
But choose to dismiss their activities?
Well...
A tree is rooted,
To all that I am.
Without trees with leaves,
We wouldn't be able to breathe.
Or...
Be able to roam greedily leeching,
Believing God has gifted us to be...
Selfish just to exist!
Trees,
Are solid and grounded...
To 'this' Earth we stand upon.
If it wasn't for the dirt from Earth,
Nothing grown from it...
Would be eaten or found.
And IF it wasn't for the assistance,
From the Sun or clouds above...
Not a dropp of rain,
That produces drinking water...
Would for any of us be allowed,
To love.
Have you ever witnessed a fish,
Crawl or limp aided with a walking stick...
Upon dry sand?
Or a man, woman or child...
Live without eating out of Mother Nature's hand?
Have you?
LIES!
No you haven't.
Why do I daily,
Make it my business...
To seek and hug a tree?
And ignore those who snicker about this,
With a laughter I can hear..
But choose to dismiss their activities?
I am connected!
That's correct.
And respect that which assists my existence.
With a feeling that is blessed,
To have within my head this perspective.
Cause my mama did not raise no fools!
Although there have been times,
I will admit I have been foolish.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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 Disgarded Garden
Their once was a young man who wanted to become a Gardner. There once was a young Rose Tree that wanted a Gardener. They met each other one summer day and began what seemed to be a beautiful relationship. The Gardner was attentive of his garden along with his Rose Tree and the Rose Tree was so happy that its tender branches grew and it bloomed continuously for the Gardner so he’d always be happy.
As time went by the Rose Tree noticed that Gardner wouldn’t tend to her as much as he once did. And when he did he would cut away harshly at the Rose Tree. The Rose Tree being a simple plant who did not need much attention still bloomed for the Gardner. It seemed the more she tried, the more the Gardner would cut away and the tree was now nestled in the ground. Why could this be? He had a bountiful garden that any Gardner would have loved to have. What more could anyone want thought the Rose Tree.
Now in an abandoned garden the Rose Tree grows back its branches, with very thick thorn’s to protect it self. As time goes by one day, out of nowhere appears a Gardener who has silently admired the Rose Tree from outside the garden gates and begins to nurture the Rose Tree in her garden. He tenderly and sympathetically pulls away all the weeds and brush from the Rose Tree so the air, rain & sunshine can reach her again. Allowing her the opportunity to grow back as she once was; vibrant, strong, colorful and to be simply, herself.
This is something the Rose Tree had long forgotten and is very grateful for the loving words of encouragement and kindness that her new Gardner has shown. She longingly awaits for his visits and when the Gardner comes to see her she bloom’s for him and relaxes underneath his beautifully kind smile. My darling Gardner, I am glad fate has brought you to walk along the path leading to the once lost garden and Rose Tree.
poem by Sarah Barron
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Song of the Little White Girl
Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, what is the matter?
Why are you shaking so? Why do you chatter?
Because it is just a white baby you see,
And it's the black ones you like, cabbage tree?
Cabbage tree, cabbage tree, you're a strange fellow
With your green hair and your legs browny-yellow.
Wouldn't you like to have curls, dear, like me?
What! No one to make them? O poor cabbage tree!
Never mind, cabbage tree, when I am taller,
And if you grow, please, a little bit smaller,
I shall be able by that time, bay be,
To make you the loveliest curls, cabbage tree.
poem by Katherine Mansfield
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