Us And We
Once
I saw a tree breathe
Her leaves were scorched by draught
and the hot August breeze
The bark crumbling off
where ants were taking advantage
Their mandibles stinging
into the white flesh beneath
I began spraying her with water
when without thinking
I heard myself speak audibly
'There now, I hope that makes you feel better.'
And then the frequency of our energies
became combined
in rhythmic communication
as the lines began to blur
between being human
and being tree
When then a bird landed on us
and we were three
Our community superseding individuality
poem by Sara Fielder
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Related quotes
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
A Poem With Roots
Deep in the ground
Far beneath my feet
My mothers lifetime ago
A seed, a root, a tree began to grow.
Buried in the soil
It once lay alone,
Til the seeds, the root, the tree began to show.
Deep in the ground
Far beneath my feet.
A root became a tree.
poem by Caitlynn Rose
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The Mango Tree In My Backyard
the mango tree in my backyard,
stand majestic and strong,
the first morning rays,
falling thro the leaves,
like myraid colorful beans, ,
chirping of bird is like melodious song,
parrat myna bulbul and so,
make upteem sounds,
squirrel jumping up and down,
the water dripping leaves inrain,
flutter of leaves while the breeze blow,
summer sun glows like orange ball,
but the cool breeze of the tree gives a relief,
the mango tree saw us grow,
know our grief and all our sorrow,
the majestic tree gave us support and peace,
a true companion of our life indeed.
.
poem by renu Vig sharma sharma
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Leaves Compared with Flowers
A tree's leaves may be ever so good,
So may its bar, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It never will show much flower or fruit.
But I may be one who does not care
Ever to have tree bloom or bear.
Leaves for smooth and bark for rough,
Leaves and bark may be tree enough.
Some giant trees have bloom so small
They might as well have none at all.
Late in life I have come on fern.
Now lichens are due to have their turn.
I bade men tell me which in brief,
Which is fairer, flower or leaf.
They did not have the wit to say,
Leaves by night and flowers by day.
Leaves and bar, leaves and bark,
To lean against and hear in the dark.
Petals I may have once pursued.
Leaves are all my darker mood.
poem by Robert Frost
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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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The Tree And The Breeze
Have you ever noticed how the trees sway with the breeze?
It's as if they were dancing in rhythm with a mellow tune
Have you ever notice how a tree is home to a bird's nest...
where the birds rest?
It's as if the tree were a peaceful and relaxed get-away
From where their troubles stray
But then the tree also has another side
In which it can take the birds for a bit of a ride
It is its party side...
when a pile of birds get together in one tree...
to sing along to the breeze as back and forth it sways the tree
The tree's stuck in the ground
Every day its life's the same
But the breeze
Now that's a different story
The breeze is free
It goes and comes as it pleases
The tree it seizes
Have you ever noticed half the things a tree does are caused by the breeze?
poem by Amy Parkinson
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A Seed
See how a Seed, which Autumn flung down,
And through the Winter neglected lay,
Uncoils two little green leaves and two brown,
With tiny root taking hold on the clay
As, lifting and strengthening day by day,
It pushes red branchless, sprouts new leaves,
And cell after cell the Power in it weaves
Out of the storehouse of soil and clime,
To fashion a Tree in due course of time;
Tree with rough bark and boughs' expansion,
Where the Crow can build his mansion,
Or a Man, in some new May,
Lie under whispering leaves and say,
"Are the ills of one's life so very bad
When a Green Tree makes me deliciously glad?"
As I do now. But where shall I be
When this little Seed is a tall green Tree?
poem by William Allingham
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Tree, Old Tree Of The Triple Crook
Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Crook
And the rope of the Black Election,
'Tis the faith of the Fool that a race you rule
Can never achieve perfection:
So 'It's O, for the time of the new Sublime
And the better than human way,
When the Rat (poor beast) shall come to his own
And the Wolf shall have his day!'
For Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Beam
And the power of provocation,
You have cockered the Brute with your dreadful fruit
Till your fruit is mere stupration:
And 'It's how should we rise to be pure and wise,
And how can we choose but fall,
So long as the Hangman makes us dread,
And the Noose floats free for all?'
So Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Coign
And the trick there's no recalling,
They will haggle and hew till they hack you through
And at last they lay you sprawling:
When 'Hey! for the hour of the race in flower
And the long good-bye to sin!'
And for the lack the fires of Hell gone out
Of the fuel to keep them in!'
But Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Bough
And the ghastly Dreams that tend you,
Your growth began with the life of Man,
And only his death can end you.
They may tug in line at your hempen twine,
They may flourish with axe and saw;
But your taproot drinks of the Sacred Springs
In the living rock of Law.
And Tree, Old Tree of the Triple Fork,
When the spent sun reels and blunders
Down a welkin lit with the flare of the Pit
As it seethes in spate and thunders,
Stern on the glare of the tortured air
Your lines august shall gloom,
And your master-beam be the last thing whelmed
In the ruining roar of Doom.
poem by William Ernest Henley
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Marula tree trunk
Strong winds blow against the Marula tree trunk,
They come with miscellaneous objects,
Light and heavy,
And use them to break the Marula tree trunk,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
Light and heavy rains come,
The Marula tree smiles,
For the plentiful rain water will make
It stronger and taller,
Animals come and sleep under and on top
Of the Marula tree,
Lean and rub their itching bodies
Against the Marula tree trunk,
Relieve themselves against it,
But nothing happens to the Marula tree trunk,
The human race use the Marula tree for shade
Against the merciless summer heat of the Limpopo sun,
And eat or make beer with Marula,
But, alas! One vicious human being returned,
And chopped it,
Off goes the faithless Marula tree trunk,
To be scorched by the everlasting home burning fires.
poem by Niki Nicholas Nkuna
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The Wishing Tree
A charming sweet youth
Wandered through life
A bit awkward
To say uncouth
Stumbling through
The toils of life
He stumbled upon
An archaic tree
Wishing on
It's old wearied branch
wishing he was
older than he.
With a subtle whack
The tree hit back
And said ‘Thou inane youth you would rather be old like me? '
With a bump on his head
Leaves began to sprout
His flexible limbs
Turned to stalwart tims
Now all that he sees
Are old green leaves
And the old boy began to sap.
Then a new youth appeared
And he gleamed with joy
'Look at me, ' he cheered
'I am a brand new boy.'
He looked at the tree
And sweetly smiled
'Now you wish you were me
A happy child! '
poem by Kevin Michael Murphy
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Smoking Gun
The old perverbial smoking gun
as they say
just for fun
I shot it one day
shot it into a tree
the sap began to seep
down on my knee
I began to weep
I thought I killed it dead
being a child
something in my head
just went wild
I'm glad it was a tree
and not a person
or I would forever be
in a prison
the tree never died
its alive today
I still cried
and put my gun away
poem by Ernest Clary
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Billy The Mongolian Whistler
Billy the Mongolian whistler
came to England in 1963.
His whistling was so outstanding,
they put him up a tree.
Now Billy had a bird phobia
especially when they went tweet.
So putting him up a tree was thoughtless
if his phobia he had to beat.
As the first daylight was breaking
and the birds began to tweet.
Billy the Mongolian whistler
instead of whistling began to tweet.
Billy was so embarrassed,
down from the tree he came
and Billy the Mongolian whistler
has never been the same again.
A psychiatrist was called in for Billy,
to see if they could put him right.
But he had returned to the desert
where there isn’t a bird in sight.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Sonnet: the Drumstick Tree
The drumstick-tree I thought was dead and gone
Is fully clothed by green leaves and flowers;
The bees are active and some fruits are born;
The tree awaits August’s Monsoon showers.
I see the tree growing so fast each morn;
My eyes perceive not the blossoming act;
How well does Nature heal its parts much torn;
Human beings are blind with eyes- the fact.
So, numerous small birds visit the tree,
To eat the flowers that gets dropped nearby;
The tree makes the backyard look so lovely;
Some Millipedes remain and will not die!
The tree looks resurrected, simply great!
God gave a new lease and a newer date.
7-31-2000
poem by John Celes
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Sprinkle Your Love
The glazing sunshine
Afternoon
Under that tree
Tree with dry leaves
Visible roots
Dry earth
Give me water
To drink
And sprinkle your love
On the bareness of my heart
The sky and some patches of white clouds
I stretch
Hold my hands
The hands dry like the branches of that tree
Hold my hands
For these hands
May grow some leaves
And fruits
Like the hope
I have
From the tree
My love
Do not despair
There is blood
Still running in my veins
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
~
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
shaded from the heat of the midday sun
yet still free to ride upon the ocean breeze
whenever it chooses to blow from time to time
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
and chirp my own little song aloud to the world
or to fly amongst the clouds so high above
and look down to watch the world below
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
for all my wishes and day bought dreams
I am here and I am still me writing a poem
about that lucky bird perched in the cypress tree
poem by Matthew Holloway
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Caged
People began bidding for a confined bird on a ledge
A poor bird in a iron cage.
No one knows this birds age.
It was the pleasing color of sage.
The sea was in a constant rage.
Everyone was afraid of standing near the outside stage.
The bird went to the highest bidder for a high price.
The auctionor asked him what he was going to do with the bird?
The owner of the bird set it free.
So it could fly from tree to tree.
The bird said thank you by singing its wild glee.
This reminds me of how God can set a mans souls free.
Thank you God for setting my soul free.
Sonnet: Nature Heals Itself
Just when I thought the tree was surely dead,
New leaves began to sprout up once again;
And soon, it wore a green crown on its head;
It had been resurrected by the rain!
Dumb-founded, astonished, perplexed I stood!
The tree that was deemed dead now was alive;
A canopy of green covered the wood,
And made me happy for the tree was live!
What a remarkable feat of Nature!
Impossible a task, it had performed;
Never underestimate her stature;
If left to man, the tree would have been harmed.
Thou art thine own healer, Nature Mother!
Can a human do than thee much better?
poem by John Celes
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A Poem Of Syntax
A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree
The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue
The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog
I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue
I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Married to a Tree
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as coarse
As thou, the bark
That stands still
While my bleeding heart
Doth dry up on your floors
I am married to a tree
Who sways to and fro carelessly
Who is helpless at the woes
Of the wind that causes much a storm
And leaves its menacing trail
For I am married to a tree
With grooves and dents
That frown with age
As I run my fingers down the seams
And am turned off by your despair
I am married to a tree
Whose love is just as damp
Like the leaves that blossom in spring
And die in the autumn, so sad
For I hope that winter will be forgiving
I am married to a tree
But the reason that I wait
Is for the birds that sing and chirp
And compliment the rays
For it is worth my time
I am married to a tree
As condemning as I may be
And selfish that I may seem
For I should commend thee
As you are as nurturing as she.
poem by Antoine La Najja
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The thought
Tremble touched by the nature`s autumnal white-frost –
wild wasteness by latent energies…
seed sprung into thinking origin –
a clay`s illusion through passionate moments.
It`s the thought
a light faster
or unreliable fire –
through which it`s shown
life in tongue of pendulum clock,
reverse mirror
of flowers
and also of tree`s-tree,
through him
the eternity fill out
and the m a n
the sensitive one –
into the Human Being.
poem by Dumitru Găleșanu from Emotions into Multiverse (25 July 2010), translated by Adrian Constantinescu
Submitted by Dumitru Găleșanu
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