Or Existence
look at you
you take pride of myriad leaves
of branching twigs
of a sturdy trunk
you are saying you are
well rooted
and strong and no
wind is good enough
to uproot you
look at me
i have no roots
i am bald for i have not
a single leaf
from my imaginary
branches
from my twigs which you say
do not exist at all
you laugh and take pride
with what you are
and what you own andwhat you keep
i am invisible and i have no word
that i own
i am not even a wind
since i do not touch your leaf
and cannot let you feel
i do not doubt that it is my mere silence
that horrifies you
and i thank myself
for just being this way
i have no name
i have no self
i merely pass by
and i do not come
back
and so beyond myself and all these
you are nothing too
as i perceived myself to be
not a wind not a sound
nothing about roots
or existence.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Related quotes
How The Leaves Are Blown By The Wind
did i not tell you that these leaves come from the trees?
no dispute about it
about them, they grow out from there, those twigs
of the trees of life,
they get their glow, their sheen, though they have given more honor
to the sun
rather than the roots and the phloem
the season for them to mature and fall has come
and they all wait for the wind, the great strong wind to blow them all away
to their respective destinies
some find their way to the river
some to the thick heap of other leaves destined to rot
and only if you hear them
they say they come from nowhere
not from the tree of life
not from me
the leaves, my poems, the wind my way of throwing,
the tree, myself, my roots my mind, my phloem my blood
i made them all, but now, they are on their own
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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You Don't Care, You Can't Care
It's dark, dank and dreary
The Wind is cold and uncomforting
But I am just another Raindrop
That lands on your Leaves,
You stand rooted to the ground
Not even the Wind moves you
And the Rain touches you.
As I land on your Leaf,
Trying to retain, to remain there
Just for a second, to be a part of you;
The Wind blows me away 'whoosh'
And I am gone.
But you don't look back,
The Roots tell you 'no' as the
Wind continues to blow...
Lying on the ground, looking
Back up at what could have been
You stand there, alone, the
Wind howling, the Rain falling,
And you don't care,
You can't care. Is it the
Wind or the Rain? Or are you just too vain?
Strangely, stupidly, sadly; I
Give you another chance, I try
To talk to you, but you let the
Wind shake your Leaves, the
Rain fall on you, you watch
those Raindrops slide off you
Each and every one falls to the earth
You don't care, You can't care.
poem by E.D. French
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The Leaf And The Tree And The Roots
if i had to write it again
then i had to, as i must
let you fully understand
the true nature of a vine
the way the leaf swerves
with the wind to give itself
to a fateful fall, the one that
completes its existence as
a leaf to a tree, a part of
a whole, the way it must
settle on the ground and
be with the worms and rot
and fulfills the cycle of its
short existence, and by then
it tells the roots, i am a leaf
i am back and you must now
eat everything in me so i can
be with the bark again so i
can be a leaf again to a tree
that holds me back
and then for another time
lets me fall again.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Journey Back To Ourselves
as i stare at the
rain
i remember
trees
transparent and
cold
trees without
leaves
i imagine
twigs
or roots or
trunks
they are never
there
no matter how
trees are tears
without leaves
without roots
with so much
salt in each
and then you
touch the waves
of the imaginary
sea and then
your journey back
to you begins
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Lino
i trust you and i repeat
the line of our heritage
from trees we come from
rooted to their roots
this time we let go off
our leaves and even some
of our twigs as we pay
tribute to the change of the
season, but soon, Lino,
and i trust you, we become
trees faithful to the sun again,
soon they shall see buds,
growing from new twigs,
roots growing deeper
probing our loneliness.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Like a leaf in the wind
Her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
Clinging on to tree of life
With nothing more than hope
Devoid of pretense
Shorn of desires
Tossed about, at the whim of a gathering storm
Dark cold has slowed the sap
But deep inside, life fights to surge through
Longing for the next sunny day
When the sap will ease through fluid pathways
Until then, her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
On a high branch she clings alone
While the other leaves huddle
Warm in their numbers
Sheltered in low branches
Wondering how she has lasted so long
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
When the storm blows harder,
She sometimes feels close to giving up
And sinking quietly to the ground below
Returning to dust, from where she arose
But something in her refuses to let go
While her soul flutters like a leaf in the wind
So come wind, come storm,
Blow as you might
She will cling on to the tree of life
This lone leaf will fight.
poem by Anita Atina
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A Redmption Of The Self
when i stand there
there was a dark cloud of shame
above my head
the cloud is heavy
and it poured
dismay
i am drenched with
humiliation
i fell like i am a tree with
wilted leaves
that keep on falling to
the ground
until i become nothing
but twigs
mere fingers of the hands
skeletal to the sky
i do not have those roots
that keep me strong
but then there is always that
redemption
ally to the sun
shall i be when tomorrow comes
i grow my leaves again
spread my roots
deeper than the
hands of the rivers
to the cracks of the earth
where gold resides
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A New leaf
There’s a new leaf upon the Tree
A thousand, thousand have been before
In the life of this great tree
Yet, the Tree rejoices, and is glad
For there is a New Leaf upon the tree
The roots are deep, and hidden
Tis one tree from root to branch
And lives in and through each leaf
The hearts’ smile resurrected
Through the New leaf upon the tree
Like the stars of heaven
New leaves have been many
And so they all are One
For they all share the same root
Bless the New leaf upon the tree
Perfection in the Blessing
Joy released in tears of love
The strength in life will comfort
From root to God above
A New leaf upon the tree
Beauty, Truth, and life
Complete from root to branch
When life’s cycle turns
Leaves fall to nourish roots
And behold, a New leaf upon the tree
poem by Adrian Wait
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Yesterday
yesterday was a wild wind
it blew me everywhere and i was but
a mere leaf not knowing what a direction is going to make
out of me
i hope though that soon this caterpillar
shall become another
monarch
butterfly to own a chunk of
blue sky
a capillary of a red petal of a rose that blooms
on the month of May,
yesterday was crippling and there was not crutch
no screeching wheelchair and i was helplessly bending
to a certain pain
i was wriggling and i fall upon a river raging towards a cliff
i had become a victim of a waterfall.
the hope is that soon after the wind shall have blown
and finished with its rage
the leaf shall then become free
to fall on the ground where it shall wilt
what option has it, when cut from its branch
and deprived of roots?
today is the hope of the seed
it knows what roots are, what fruits can be
today is the grains of the silent sand
light and glimmer, look over there
there is this dance of the prince and the princess
in the castle of the clouds
there is this heavy silence after
where we shall be again together
there is this smile that keeps us alive for the moment
there is this hold for a lifetime of hands that grip the softness of our being
we must agree and remember and believe
there is this tomorrow that never dies
there is this sun that we do not know how it works
tomorrow it will still be shining
there is still us i must suppose because we are tired of options.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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A Tree Telling of Orpheus
White dawn. Stillness.When the rippling began
&nbs p; I took it for sea-wind, coming to our valley with rumors
&nb sp; of salt, of treeless horizons. But the white fog
didn't stir; the leaves of my brothers remained outstretched,
unmoving.
& nbsp; &n bsp; &nb sp;Yet the rippling drew nearer – and then
my own outermost branches began to tingle, almost as if
fire had been lit below them, too close, and their twig-tips
were drying and curling.
& nbsp; &n bsp; &nb sp; Yet I was not afraid, only
; & nbsp; deeply alert.
I was the first to see him, for I grew
; out on the pasture slope, beyond the forest.
He was a man, it seemed: the two
moving stems, the short trunk, the two
arm-branches, flexible, each with five leafless
& nbsp; &n bsp; &nb sp; &nbs p; ; twigs at their ends,
and the head that's crowned by brown or golden grass,
bearing a face not like the beaked face of a bird,
&nbs p; ; more like a flower's.
& nbsp; &n bsp; He carried a burden made of
some cut branch bent while it was green,
strands of a vine tight-stretched across it. From this,
when he touched it, and from his voice
which unlike the wind's voice had no need of our
leaves and branches to complete its sound,
&nb sp; &nbs p; ; & nbsp;came the ripple.
But it was now no longer a ripple (he had come near and
stopped in my first shadow) it was a wave that bathed me
& nbsp; &n bsp; as if rain
; & nbsp; rose from below and around me
& nbsp; &n bsp; instead of falling.
And what I felt was no longer a dry tingling:
& nbsp; I seemed to be singing as he sang, I seemed to know
; what the lark knows; all my sap
& nbsp; &n bsp; was mounting towards the sun that by now
& nbsp; &n bsp; had risen, the mist was rising, the grass
was drying, yet my roots felt music moisten them
deep under earth.
; He came still closer, leaned on my trunk:
&nb sp; &nbs p; the bark thrilled like a leaf still-folded.
Music! There was no twig of me not
& nbsp; &n bsp; trembling with joy and fear.
Then as he sang
it was no longer sounds only that made the music:
he spoke, and as no tree listens I listened, and language
& nbsp; &n bsp; came into my roots
&nbs p; ; out of the earth,
&nb sp; &nbs p; into my bark
; & nbsp; out of the air,
into the pores of my greenest shoots
&nb sp; gently as dew
and there was no word he sang but I knew its meaning.
He told me of journeys,
of where sun and moon go while we stand in dark,
&nbs p; of an earth-journey he dreamed he would take some day
deeper than roots ...
He told of the dreams of man, wars, passions, griefs,
&n bsp; and I, a tree, understood words – ah, it seemed
my thick bark would split like a sapling's that
; & nbsp; grew too fast in the spring
when a late frost wounds it.
&n bsp; &nb sp; &nbs p; ; Fire he sang,
that trees fear, and I, a tree, rejoiced in its flames.
New buds broke forth from me though it was full summer.
&n bsp; As though his lyre (now I knew its name)
&nbs p; were both frost and fire, its chords flamed
up to the crown of me.
I was seed again.
&nb sp; &nbs p; I was fern in the swamp.
&nb sp; &nbs p; ; & nbsp;I was coal.
poem by Denise Levertov
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With blazing, electric blue thunder
(after Pablo Neruda)
With blazing, electric blue thunder
the morning is alive in this summer.
The wind tosses the threatening clouds like washing
torn from the line, waving goodbye without hands.
The mouthless harsh voice of the wind
howls right through our blissful silence.
Thunder bolts rock exploding in bright white light
while the wind rips leaves, branches and trees
as if in remembrance of long gone battles and wars
while it tosses squalls of pattering buckets of rain
sounding like the roar of a havoc orchestra
from the very gates of destruction, right from hell
while big oak trees sway as if only twigs,
some topple torn right out from their roots
and against me storm tossed in passion you are laying,
coming weightless full of fiery blazing desire,
with tender sweet lips that are kissing bringing bliss
and outside the wind roars as if its power is endless.
[Reference: “Es La Mañana Llena” “The Morning Is Full” by Pablo Neruda.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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The Tree And The Butterfly
what i love to see in you
is when you become a huge tree
rooted upon a
muted grass hill
above you is a black cloud
making rain
your leaves are all wet
and your roots are drinking so much water
your bark is thick and your
trunk so hard and strong
and she is there the frail butterfly
clinging softly
beneath the big leaf
fragile and steady
what i love next is when the rain stops
and then the butterfly leaves you
helpless and sad and so poetic.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The leaf in the wind
The leaf in the wind
Missed the tree
The tree it was in
That made it be
It fell to the porch
A child held it
And gave it a stroke
Then gently left it
The wind came again
And took it to the sky
Then the sky rained
And it fell to lie
The things on the ground
Kept pushing it away
The wind had an angry sound
It wanted it in its way
So the wind blew
And picked up the leaf
And held it through
Earth’s grief and relief
No tree would claim
The young leaf left
Touched by time
Time itself had left
poem by Ragy Sandid
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Sound Of The Beating Heart!
we spend lifetimes searching
for the sound the leaf makes
turning from green to orange to red...
we spend our loving burning branches
in the shadow of the tree.
we spend our faith trying to capture,
and hold the wind for a moment...
never knowing that what we search for
is only our own being!
we are the leaf, the branches, the fire,
the tree, and the wind...
the sound, the loving, and the faith.
and yet we are nothing.
we are but a moment,
familiar taste and scent.
we are eternity,
the breath of an unknown god.
the sun has set,
stillness comes walking
across the mountains.
i listen for the voices
that have no face.
dead poets sit by a vagrant fire,
immigrants, refugees...
spinning old tales.
my friends smell like trees,
and leaves turned brown.
we cross bridges unseen,
with no destination.
and the only sound
that even god can hear...
the sound of the beating heart!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Wild Is The Wind
(1957) dimitri tiomkin, ned washington
Love me love me love me
Say you do
Let me fly away
With you
For my love is like
The wind
And wild is the wind
Give me more
Than one caress
Satisfy this
Hungriness
Let the wind
Blow through your heart
For wild is the wind
You...
Touch me...
I hear the sound
Of mandolins
You...
Kiss me...
With your kiss
My life begins
Youre spring to me
All things
To me
Dont you know youre
Life itself
Like a leaf clings
To a tree
Oh my darling,
Cling to me
For were creatures
Of the wind
And wild is the wind
So wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Wild Is The Wind
Love me, love me, love me, love me
Say you do
Let me fly away with you
For my love is like the wind
And wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Give me more than one caress
Satisfy this hungriness
Let the wind blow through your heart
Oh wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
You touch me
I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
Youre spring to me
All things to me
Dont you know
Youre life itself!
Like the leaf
Clings to the tree
Oh my darling cling to me
For were like creatures of the wind
And wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
You touch me
I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
Youre spring to me
All things to me
Dont you know
Youre life itself!
Like the leaf
Clings to the tree
Oh my darling cling to me
For were like creatures of the wind
And wild is the wind
Wild is the wind, wild is the wind
Wild is the wind, wild is the wind
(dimitri tiomkine/ned washington)
song performed by by George Michael
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gone With The Wind
What a surprise it would be
If we meet again, this time,
In the middle of a forest:
You, as a soft and healthy leaf
And me as a gentle wind!
I would take you away
To a distant secret place
Where we would never be disturbed!
Time would seem infinite
When caressing you all over
With my tender invisible hands
Along with your passionate kisses
That would transport us
Definitely to another dimension
Filled with ecstasy and lust!
You and me alone!
Happy together,
We would feel
Like on top of the World!
You, the amorous leaf,
Purposely detached from a tree
That was left way back behind
A which by now
Must be sadly missing you!
The leaf gone with the wind
And now having so much fun
With me (The Wind) !
Happy together,
In that distant secret place
Where nobody would find us!
Only the Mighty above understands
The reason why
We madly fell in love
In that daring escape journey
To this distant secret place!
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Looking Back To The Mountains Strong
when things go wrong
we struggle with so much
silence
sometimes a whistle can make
a good pretension
a slight tap on the back
a hug can make a good compliment
with us
there must be more to this struggle in silence
the years have been adding up
like layers of soil upon a hill
we dig into all these layers
to find roots
they are not dead yet
the trees may have no leaves and
all the twigs may have dried up
and when you cut it
each shall give up its hollowness
too easily in a snap of your finger
the layers are pictures of what we are
what kindness we extended to our shortcomings
we look back to see mountains still strong with their peaks
we look forward to the endless horizon of the seas
there are two suns now
you and I.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Leaf And The Tree
When will you learn, myself, to be
a dying leaf on a living tree?
Budding, swelling, growing strong,
Wearing green, but not for long,
Drawing sustenance from air,
That other leaves, and you not there,
May bud, and at the autumn's call
Wearing russet, ready to fall?
Has not this trunk a deed to do
Unguessed by small and tremulous you?
Shall not these branches in the end
To wisdom and the truth ascend?
And the great lightning plunging by
Look sidewise with a golden eye
To glimpse a tree so tall and proud
It sheds its leaves upon a cloud?
Here, I think, is the heart's grief:
The tree, no mightier than the leaf,
Makes firm its root and spreads it crown
And stands; but in the end comes down.
That airy top no boy could climb
Is trodden in a little time
By cattle on their way to drink.
The fluttering thoughts a leaf can think,
That hears the wind and waits its turn,
Have taught it all a tree can learn.
Time can make soft that iron wood.
The tallest trunk that ever stood,
In time, without a dream to keep,
Crawls in beside the root to sleep.
poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Wild Is The Wind
Love me, love me, love me, love me, say you do
Let me fly away with you
For my love is like the wind, and wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Give me more than one caress, satisfy this hungriness
Let the wind blow through your heart
For wild is the wind, wild is the wind
You touch me, I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
Youre spring to me, all things to me
Dont you know, youre life itself!
Like the leaf clings to the tree,
Oh, my darling, cling to me
For were like creatures of the wind, wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
You touch me, I hear the sound of mandolins
You kiss me
With your kiss my life begins
Youre spring to me, all things to me
Dont you know, youre life itself!
Like the leaf clings to the tree,
Oh, my darling, cling to me
For were like creatures in the wind, and wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
Wild is the wind
song performed by by David Bowie
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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