The tree is my totem
Standing straight and true and tall
Comfortable in its great age

It doesn’t speculate whether life is
Analog or digital,
Continuous or discrete

It abides with its fellow beings
On the hilltop
Or in the meadow

One has need of ritual
Mine is to behold a great tree
Wherever, whenever I may find one

To pause, to regard and recall
When the tree was yet but a seed
Not yet fallen from its parent,

Thence to travel over the decades
And centuries with it
Until it becomes the present tree

That’s all

There are no words
For how one travels
With a tree through time

06/08/2019

Posted on 06/08/2019
Copyright © 2024 Ronald A Pavellas