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Friday, 13 July 2012

The Tree's Story

Wonder minds, wonder worlds; oh how did I get this far to rest 
This stand, this pine rich circumference of thy tree trunk 
Of circular wider and longer in years gone, and add on

To have seen before scriptures-inscribed 
He has seen it all, through the good and bad weather
If the tree trunk could say a word; announce the stage 

This story is simple, this story made, this story goes 
Thus like a walk, foot steps back at a time, a time facing 
Back and step and step and back and walk backwards into time past 

Summer stands on the shoulders of spring but before spring 
Winter held down this cold, like a frozen mummy left in time 
Without breath, on the back ground solid of numb 

Like snows white laid, deserted bare 
The loudest is the winds that echo in silent halls 
And a feather from an old dove dangling is highly suspicious 

This was after autumn, like the Ottoman Empire 
It came on to invade and hold leaves brown and fall 
Crushed when walked on, like empty souls, shells 

Yet without so much evil a washed as said of autumn 
And winter's harshness known; these circles of rings 
That hold grounds and expand to give  majesty 

To say the tree trunk is wise, would not have stood today 
And the tree's majesty would not be, without the process 
Without; and trees this big providing shade to worship would not be

Would not be 
That is the story of the tree that stands in the park 
In St. Andrews the tree's story of time 

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