A Tree Poem by alex sarich
A Tree
Dwell not on misfortunes
obsessions, rancor and
cynicism, memories age,
encoded in bark
I am a Tree.
Wrinkled and wise
rooted to the ground,
budding leaves of tears
I am but a Tree.
Seasons sow tireless seeds
flowing prated themes
not yet known but still
I am a Tree.
Ages past it seem
without end and rainbows
circle unshadowed skies
for history remains intact
I am but a Tree.
Written April 2010.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 10:47:26 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A great, great poem. You reallly feel a tree and describe it. Thanks for sharing this fascinating poem.