and with a sigh, the mighty trees fell
seeing it, you would never know that
this could possibly be meaningful:
simply the rise and fall of nature and
a great cycle destined to repeat;
by windblown or fireburnt
or waterrot or bladecut,
these things happen, all
in a forest dark;
the canopy slowly infiltrated
by the rays of light.

new growth will spread here,
but progress takes time,
and the seeds have not yet
taken hold. Sewn, certainly,
but they require the nuturing and
love that simply takes more
passion than i am imbued with;
but soon, with the grace of the sun,
this naked love shall grow and start anew
what the process of nature runs
every couple hundred years, though truncated
into a microcosmic timescale.


there are certain trees,
protected from all harm; from the
ruin of modernization, from the
decline of civilization from which
i gather all of my hope,
she has stood, confident
(though attacked,
never broken)
as the shade from this mercillous
abuse of mind and eye from
a tormenting sun that both
gives life and engulfs it;
she has stood as my shelter,
defying nature in beauty and
steadfastness;

and she sighs with the blowing
of the wind, breathing so softly,
but just enough to force natural
progress.

11/08/2004

Posted on 11/09/2004
Copyright © 2024 Andrew S Adams