An Old Tree
An old tree stands by the edge of a cliff,
awaiting, awaiting the waters to lift.
The waves he cherishes like God's gift,
but through weeds and mountains he must first sift.
Lonely, pleading like a beggar,
he looks to the sea and wishes to tell her
to raise her waters with a good will,
so he could stand alone in the Home of Thrill.
An old tree stands alone on a hill,
forsaken and abandoned, he slowly dies,
as he watches the world's ages fall into a ghyll,
he sets his heart to where the sea-nymph cries.
In mimicry of the sea-nymph's tears,
he sends his roots cascading down the hills
like a waterfall of knowledge collected through the years.
What a sight to see! The spirit with sadness it fills.
An old tree once stood by the edge of a cliff,
waiting for some water to rise.
Now he's fallen, eaten by flies,
as he lays on the rocks, yet nobody cries.
What a life to have lived,
sad and alone.
As he dies, he knows he won't be missed.
No one grieves him but them he'll forgive,
even if they throw him like broken bones.
Yet even at death's gate his wish is dismissed.
His grave stands above the sea,
ever close to the waters free.
Death is cruel and ignores the plea,
And so water never reached by old friend the tree.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (An Old Tree by Soren Valentine )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(9 November 1928 – 4 October 1974)
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