Droupadi, The Living Christmas Tree Poem by Saiom Shriver

In the brookwood twas the fall.
Trees thought only of the ball.
Maple donned a pinkling twinkling.
Oak her scarlet acorn rings.

Woven cloth of crystalled sunlight
did the birch and beech slip into
Purple sari'd swayed the locust
Crimson robed the lark-ed larch.

Flame orange fire was the peach
Hickory a light shaft torch
Soft limelight the mulberry
Emerald elm men's hearts did scorch

All their gold themselves to gild
None with evergreen did share
But she had no sorrow
But she shed no tears.

Shimmered all in ecstasy
Diamond dewdrops in their hair
Autumn orb through leafy stained glass
rainbow sunbeam palaces made

Evergreen did not notice
Squirrels nested in her bodice
Birds were swaddled in her boughs
Oer her now a rose moon rose.

Wintergreen winds blew their trumpets
Frost the puritan heralded they
Seized he garments of the dance.
Left all leafless in the rain.

December's eve came to the forest
and the children from the town
garlanded lil firtree gaily
In their hearts was she crowned.

Wherere you see the forest light
in a sequined velvet night
it is she all crystal candled
sign to all who pass her by

art's erratic love's forever
Loving Spirit never dies.

===============

to our mother

Droupadi: In the Mahabharata is the
story of Yudhisthira's wife Droupadi.
A thug tried to disrobe her, but
Krishna caused her sari to be
almost endless, until the thug
gave up.

It is writer's humble prayer
that people will purchase
artificial trees or decorate
living trees outside.