The desolate tree

I was out walking the dog this morning and took this photo of a near-dead tree.

I was thinking about its life and was inspired to write a poem about it, entitled 'The desolate tree'

The desolate tree

 

Here I stand, a desolate tree.

My life left behind me,

My once strong branches, fragile and weak

My skin of bark, once so protective,

Faded away by the passage of time.

My friends; all gone, fallen in battle,

No birds nest within the safety of my leaves,

Insects no longer inhabit my bough.

I think my time is nearly up.

One more strong gust of wind and I’ll be gone.

 

But do not pity, this desolate tree.

When the mists come, I can imagine life as it was

I overflowed with life,

My acorns carried off by birds to far flung places,

My seeds  creating life anew

Birds singing me songs of thanks from their nests,

My friends and I stretching upwards, year on year,

Striving for the sunlight and drinking the rain.

We all swayed together in the wind;

An unbreakable brotherhood

 

So when the end comes, for this desolate tree

Remember me as I was,

Not as I am today.

 Let the mists come, let the wind blow.

And when the sun shines again,

I shall be a desolate tree no more.

D Shaw 8/12/12