The Visitant
1
A cloud moved close. The bulk of the wind shifted.
A tree swayed over water.
A voice said:
Stay. Stay by the slip-ooze. Stay.
Dearest tree, I said, may I rest here?
A ripple made a soft reply.
I waited, alert as a dog.
The leech clinging to a stone waited;
And the crab, the quiet breather.
2
Slow, slow as a fish she came,
Slow as a fish coming forward,
Swaying in a long wave;
Her skirts not touching a leaf,
Her white arms reaching towards me.
She came without sound,
Without brushing the wet stones,
In the soft dark of early evening,
She came,
The wind in her hair,
The moon beginning.
3
I woke in the first of morning.
Staring at a tree, I felt the pulse of a stone.
Where’s she now, I kept saying.
Where’s she now, the mountain’s downy girl?
But the bright day had no answer.
A wind stirred in a web of appleworms;
The tree, the close willow, swayed.
poem by Theodore Roethke
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Related quotes
Girl In The Sunset
Girl in the sunset
I only saw you for a second
Yet your voice penetrated my brain
And echoed endlessly
'Stay with me' you cried
As Your golden blond hair was spinning
And as your lavender shirt caught the slow warm wind's
Under a palm tree that was swaying back and forth in that very same wind
I cannot put a name to your face
Yet you looked so familiar
Were have I seen you before?
In my many years of sailing to come will we ever meet?
That sense of togetherness I felt was indescribable
Passion I have not felt in nearly a decade
Girl in the sunset
I wish to stay under that palm tree
And view the orange sunset with you in my arms in that slow blowing warm winds
On that cobblestone road
Why do you elude me?
When will I find you?
I think I found you
But you are not “her” yet
Girl in the sunset
Please wait for me...
poem by Mike Casola
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The Willow Tree
I am a Willow Tree, that sways gently in the wind
I am a Willow Tree, who has no limits.
I am a Willow Tree, who has long and beautiful branches
I am a Willow Tree, who provides shade and comfort.
I am a Willow Tree, who can be placed anywhere
I am a Willow Tree, I whisper in the wind.
I am a Willow Tree, you think I'm very free
I am a Willow Tree, don't ever want to be me.
poem by Lucy Gocher
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A Song Of Three Singers
I
Wave and wind and willow-tree
Speak a speech that no man knoweth;
Tree that sigheth, wind that bloweth,
Wave that floweth to the sea:
Wave and wind and willow-tree.
Peerless perfect poets ye,
Singing songs all songs excelling,
Fine as crystal music dwelling
In a welling fountain free:
Peerless perfect poets three!
II
Wave and wind and willow-tree
Know not aught of poets' rhyming,
Yet they make a silver-chiming
Sunward-climbing minstrelsy,
Soother than all songs that be.
Blows the wind it knows not why,
Flows the wave it knows not whither,
And the willow swayeth hither
Swayeth thither witlessly,
Nothing knowing save to sigh.
poem by William Watson
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You Are The Tree, I Am The Wind
You are the tree, I am the wind,
You alter my course, yet you also bend;
No longer is either the same after each-
I am the wind, be my tree, I do beseech!
Ethereal, unseen-yet alterations I may make!
Magnificent, beautiful-away, my gust, you take!
Together, we are an ever-changing landscape,
Making wondrous reality out of our dreasmscape!
A tree, without its wind-breathless, becalmed:
A wind, without its tree-purposeless, withdrawn!
The wind sweeps around the tree, the tree dances
More inspiring is this than all other romances!
I, the most powerful wind, you, the most beautificent tree;
Wonder do I what, as one, together, we may be!
Maurice Harris,30 August 2009
poem by Maurice Harris
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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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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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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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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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Enigmatically Truthful
Day begins with night; Yet shadows do not stay;
With the breaking of dawn, darkness flees away.
We observe as the wind twists limbs of a tree;
Yet enigmatically the wind itself we can't see.
Snow falls; melts into the river; flows to the sea;
Heat pulls it back into the air; again snow it'll be.
Water runs downhill and will at its course stay;
Carving through stone; mountains eating away.
Animals hop and leap the moment life's begun,
Yet a human takes some years to walk and run.
Truly into a forest you can walk only half way;
For then you will be walking out or there stay.
If a tree falls in the forest and no one is around,
Although no one hears it, it still makes a sound,
In reality a bell is an ornament until it is rung,
Of a truth a song is just words until it is sung,
A word is thought until it is penned or spoken;
For up until then it is only an unformed token.
GOD does not permit love in your heart to stay,
Knowing that love cannot be until given away!
poem by Joseph Blitch
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Ballad Of The Mad Ladye
The rowan tree grows by the tower foot,
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
Can the dead feel joy or pain?_)
And the owls in the ivy blink and hoot,
And the sea-waves bubble around its root,
Where kelp and tangle and sea-shells be,
When the bat in the dark flies silently.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
The ladye sits in the turret alone,
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
The dead--can they complain?_)
And her long hair down to her knee has grown,
And her hand is cold as a hand of stone,
And wan as a band of flesh may be,
While the bird in the bower sings merrily.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
Sadly she leans by her casement side
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
Can the dead arise again?_)
And watcheth the ebbing and flowing tide,
But her eye is dim, and the sea is wide;
The fisherman's sail and the cloud flies free
And the bird is mute in the rowan tree.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
The moon shone in on the turret stair
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
The dead are bound with a chain._)
And touched her cheek and brightened her hair,
And found naught else in the world so fair,
So ghostly fair as the mad ladye,
While the bird in the bower sang lonesomely.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
The weary days and the months crept on,
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea,
The words of the dead are vain_)
At last the summer was over and gone,
And still she sat in her turret alone,
Her white hands clasping about her knee,
And the bird was mute in the rowan tree.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
Wild was the sound of the wind and the sleet,
(_Flotsam and jetsam from over the sea.
The dead--do they walk again?_)
Wilder the roar of the surf that beat;
Whose was the form that it bore to her feet
Swayed with the swell of the unquiet sea,
While the raven croaked in the rowan tree.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
Oh Lady, strange is the silent guest--
(_Flotsam and jetsam cast up by the sea,
Can the dead feel sorrow or pain?_)
With the sea-drenched locks and the pulseless breast
And the close-shut lips which thine have pressed
And the wide sad eyes that heed not thee,
While the raven croaks in the rowan tree.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
The tower is dark, and the doors are wide,
(_Flotsam and jetsam cast up by the sea,
The dead are at peace again._)
Into the harbour the fisher boats ride,
But two went out with the ebbing tide,
Without sail, without oar, full fast and free,
And the raven croaks in the rowan tree.
(_Hark to the wind and the rain._)
poem by Kate Seymour Maclean
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How Slow
How slow the time passes
On hot summer days,
How heavy the air,
And the heat, and the haze.
How slow the sun's creeping
In reaching for noon,
How long now the day-time
Belonging to June.
How dry lies the earth
In the farmer's old hands,
How slow plod the herds
As they stroll off his land.
How sweet the bird sings
In the old apple tree,
How slow the leaves falling
O'er pathway and lea.
How far the bell tolls
Over green evening fields,
How close now the haymakers'
Singing and reels.
How slow the time passes
In twilight's night shade,
How slow fell the footsteps
True lovers once made.
Written March 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
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The Willow Tree
Around the willow tree
Sounds of life rang through the air
It felt like home to me.
Home, where I was not.
But this willow tree comforted me,
And so I forgot.
This tree was part of me.
It's limbs swaying so gracefully
A lovely thing to see.
But now I am back home.
And I think about the willow tree
Standing all alone.
Home, where I'm glad to be.
But often I still find myself
Longing for that tree.
poem by Desiree Peters
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Evening Song
In the nearly dark tree
out on the bright edge,
he clings to tender leaves,
rides the wind-swayed branch
and sings.
Small bird,
red as the falling sun,
cries his evening song …
to tarried mate?
to fading sky or
guardian tree?
Drawn deep to darkest night,
I cannot ken this creature’s
pure mind; but his breath
leaves my raptured soul
bereft.
poem by Steven Federle
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Which Tree Am I?
Which tree, Which tree, Which tree Am I?
Do gaunt limbs swing high upon my trunk-
Etching signals in the sky?
Maybe my roots are solid and firm,
Grounded in being, strong and thick,
Passing soil and grub worm?
Specifically-
Am I, perhaps, an evergreen?
Warm and welcoming- Sheltering,
Birds within my canopy?
Or-
Do I sag, like a willow,
Showcasing agony with each wind,
Whispering melancholic mellows?
Which tree, Which tree, Which tree, Am I?
Oak, Redwood, Willow…. Bonsai?
poem by Lazarus Knix
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Vantage Point
the leaf speaks to the tree,
'i am tree', pounding its chest!
the tree whispers with a smile,
'but my son i am leaf! '...
the ground beneath trembles with laughter,
'yes, and i am sky! '
then the wind comes,
and with a mighty rush,
blows them all away!
three voices rhyming in distant echoes...
'we are wind! '
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Hunger Moon
Under a full hunger moon
her children in a ring
she stands at the hub
a basket of stones at the right
a February-cold jug of water
fresh from the stream
on the other.
Each one came barefoot
touching the earth
bare arms reaching up
to an unrelenting sky.
'Choose a stone' she said
'Place it under your left foot.
Stone does not yield. There will
be times when you must be
like stone.'
And over the reaching arms
walking within her family circle
she gently rained water down.
'Water does not resist. There
will be times when you must be
like water. Close your eyes
feel like stone like water.'
poem by Beryl Baigent
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God is here....
last night i had a very sound sleep
it felt like a still pond without a fish
but only moss and stone and light
like there was a full moon
drifting among the tree tops
no ripple of the air from the winds of the sea
and i remember what i dream
no bridges and flood below this time
it was like a Chinese painting of a river and mountains behind
it was so peaceful
that i can hear the sound of the leaf falling from its branch
and i told myself
this is home,
this is heaven
and what i have been dreaming has become all too true
i now, believe,
God is here.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Under My Tree
It's that time of year
Christmas is here
everybody's back together again
Spreading the joy
Spreading the cheer
Toasting to anthoer year's end
So thankful for
All of my friends
Oh.
When the party is over
the night's just begun
I promise the best part is
yet to come
slow dance together
two become one
that's what we've waited all day for
no one else but me and you
nothin i would rather do
than hold you all through the night under my tree
bring along the mistle toe
keep the music nice and low
i'll show how good it could be
i wish that santa could be here to see
it's beautiful under my tree
the fire's aglow
we've got Nat King Cole
singing us a song from his heart
sleigh bells and snow
makes us feel close
to the stars
when the carols are sung
and the fire has died
the amber stills burns with the love in our eyes
cherish the moment
savor the night
that's what we've waited all day for
No one else but me and you
Nothin i would rather do
than hold you all through the night uunder my tree
bring along the mistletoe
keep the music nice and low
i'll show you how good it could be
i wish that santa could be here to see
it's beautiful under my tree
no one but me
no one but you
sweet rendevous
under my tree
no one but me
no one but you
when the party is over
the night's just begun
i promise the best part is
yet to come
slow dance together
two become one
that's what we've waited all day for
no one else but me and you
nothin i would rather do
than hold you all through the night under my tree
bring along the mistletoe
keep the music nice and low
i'll show you how good it could be
i wish that santa could be here to see
i wish that santa could be here to see
no one else but me and you
nothin i would rather do
than make all your dreams come true
under my tree
such a cozy rendevous
just relax
song performed by by N Sync from Home For Christmas
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Way To Live
a little fish rises from the
water to
eat a bubble of
air
from the tree a
kingfisher with an eye
for fish
swiftly dives and
with its sharp long black beak
catches the
little fish
a boy with a rubber sling
aims at the blue kingfisher
hitting it with a
stone crushing its
round head and
sharp long and black beak
to the ground
a ripe coconut falls
from a tree and
hits the head of the
boy below
the lizard that climbs
the coconut tree
looking for brown beetles
at the top
does not notice how
all these events
happen
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Grass is easier?
Up on a windy hill a tree is
a grassy field wind is the breeze
birds and bee's play and play
long lost lovers sign there names
in the tree
a tire swing sways and sways
on this tree
children songs and voices
filled the air at the time
now and days the grass is dead
tree is bare and the birds and the bees
play else ware
long lost lovers are lost
the names wore and decay
on this tree
a tire swing once swayed
on this tree children played
now on this tree smoke and ash lay
songs and voices now all gone
for this is the tree we once plaid on
poem by Cody Lee Jones
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