TREES
Winds push between branches of turbulence,
Bringing within each the challenge
To move without resistance; to vacillate
And sway; to endure the injustice;
To withstand the painful break that, perchance,
Might cause torn leaves to whistle in lamentation.
A scene repeated through centuries of lamentations,
Where the nature of the wind brought turbulence,
Raising the constant life challenge
Between sprig and tree; the ability to vacillate
From standing between gusts, to fighting their injustice;
To bending forever to the constant force, perchance.
From tiny roots clinging to pebble and sand, perchance
With enough strength to avoid the lamentation
Of broken branch, shattered dreams from turbulence,
Surviving long enough in nature’s forceful challenges,
To learn the give and take power of vacillating
From giving in, to standing upright to the storm of injustice.
Stripped even of clothing of green in nature’s injustice,
It stands, even with more strength, perchance,
Because no weakness clings to mighty arms with cries of lamentation,
And all of the power of mighty root against swirling turbulence
Is available to withstand the furious challenges
Offered by a wind, forever lost in a purpose of storm and breeze; vacillating.
Thus are trees upon the earth, of a nature to be vacillating,
Yet of a strength within to stand against any storm’s injustice;
Year upon year, stretching from willowy sprig, to, perchance,
To one day dress in eternal greenery of singers of lamentations
Stretching, beyond the pebbles and stones lithely swaying to turbulences,
To grow closer to the feeding Sun, beyond all challenges.
Ever green, ever brown, ever grayed by life’s challenges;
Whistling leaves, red and yellow, green and torn dry; vacillating
Between the bending, to urges in time to freeze…bent to life’s injustice…
Over the years, leaving to the earth, returning then, perchance
To dance to the music of the rustling wind, again singing lamentations
In their fight to survive their mother’s strengthening turbulences…
Birgit and Roger