Ode To Trees

Tell me: what rhymes with your nut warm skin?

Dancing with the whispers of the whimsical wind;

Old playful memories, the most earnest of dreams,

Locked between branches of brown purity.

I falter and fall as I encompass the thunder

Star grass under the sky I eye in primitive wonder,

The rain, my wine of which I never knew the taste

and which taste meant so little under the magical haze.

Between the almond leafs, I shape your rude smile.

Kissed by the sunrays- forever young, forever fragile.

Pure and puerile, cold pebbles touch my naked fingers,

I count each one with you, every day of every winter.

Talk to me! Interrupt my endless soliloquy

Violin voice let me hear your precious symphony!

With your drops of Dresden green, dry before tomorrow

Tell me: are these drops tears of silent sorrow?

Are they the tears Larunda left you without mercy?

With which you soak and wet when I am thirsty

For liberation, as I smell the sages of your garden,

The fruits you gifted and wounds you pardoned.

Tell me: what rhymes with your unuttered song?

I dance to every lost note, grazed as you blossom.

Not even the sun, not even the moon- admittedly

None rhyme, none attune, to your ephemeral infinity.

I ask: what rhymes with the lineaments of your figure?

Wooden temple of life and death; in the bliss and wisdom

Of your breaths, an unspoken tale of mortals in despair

Standing amidst tranquillity, what sealed stories do you tell?

Down go the sylvan sounds of forgotten summers,

Contained in the breeze lifting the scarlet runners

But they never ever go silent, never ever vanish

Until heard again; only a hundred dawns of sadness.

Oh! If only this ruthless time would wrap me in your melody,

See nothing but evanescence, all so woeful and all so heavenly,

Watch the Autumn hues whiten, ivory shades and silver songs,

Watch Spring’s child grow old, thinking time left him alone.  

Should I fear your verdure venom in my loins and veins?

In the falling night, I see my hidden mark of Cain.

The rain I thought my friend, now a drowning sheet of mourn

As for the sunrays, only flaming scars were left when gone.

But off sets dawn, ocean of youth through your branches

Touching my pale face, tracing my eyelids, my eyelashes,

Seasons come and go, but you wait to hear proclaimed

What each day your wrinkles write: your unwritten name.   

I falter and fall, sylvan Kingdom of life how regal you are!

I do not fear you in my sight, I fear you’ll bid me au revoir!

When I am gone, remember this ode as I wonder one last time

To what greatness you compare, greater than an arbor rhyme.