my story hides
legacy of unremembered memories
As sea anemones wave in the ocean current
so too the trees wave in the currents of the wind
their motion in perfect synchrony,
the tallest among them, even their trunks sway,
the ghostly creaking of ancient wood
a kind of music of death and dying.
last year's leaves and the trees felled by time
feed rich loam where acorn and seed will sprout
after the spring rains
and the early May sun warms the earth.
...
Have you ever wondered if trees
converse with one another?
their words spoken so slowly that the human ear
does not recognize that they have said anything at all,
or noticed how their branches move as fluidly as a dancer's arms?
might their roots dance too,
but with such glacial patience that none
but the mycelium who dance with them might notice?
have you ever embraced an oak with such tenderness
that you felt the life that coursed slow and steady within it?
...
In a tree's life she might witness many generations of men,
coming and going without rhyme or reason
our swift movements making us all but invisible
to whatever senses they use to see, smell and hear.
But surely, they take notice when we lay the axe
to the wide girth of their trunks
or they hear the shrill buzz of the chain saw
as it cruelly bites.
who are we in their world if not the enemy
of their slow, subtle and steady lives?
...
I sometimes remember impossible things
like the terrible crash of thunder in a cloudless sky
my eyes blinking in terror
at a tree so tall that it climbs into the heavens
in the midday brilliance, and I whisper,
surely this is God's sacred throne
before awe closes my throat,
light cascading down its trunk like a colossus,
its bulging roots thrusting into the earth
with inexpressible power.
...
but my story hides in that tree, root and branch,
a legacy of unremembered memories,
my parent's untold stories, and their parent's,
all tales that would tell me who I truly am,
and I wish with all my heart that I could hear
that great tree speak to me and then share
this story with my children and they would share it with theirs
and the untold stories of untold generations
would be added to the record of our lives
and to the records of all those who came before us.
About the Creator
John Cox
Twisted teller of mind bending tales. I never met a myth I didn't love or a subject that I couldn't twist out of joint. I have a little something for almost everyone here. Cept AI. Aint got none of that.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
A Failed Artist, A Disillusioned Poet, An Underpaid Game Show Host
I took my son and niece to Gori, a small town in Georgia where Joseph Stalin was born. They talked me into visiting the Stalin's Museum, the largest in the post-Soviet space. I had resisted going there because I just can't stand the monster and know enough about him, or so I thought.
By Lana V Lynx2 days ago in FYI
Comments (17)
My favourite line: "...surely this is God's sacred throne." Such a powerful image. Well done on your placement! 🎉
Sir. Magnifique. I am actually surprised this only got a runner up. I like to imagine trees as Ents. So love that side of this but there is a quiet humility to your words that I love.an understanding if our place next to these majestic beings that stand over us. I love how you took it from the description of trees and wondering about them and then wrapped your own story in there, weaved your own roots and branches into the trees. Phenomenal work. Seriously.
Congratulations, John, on your win! There is something quite endearing about this line: "Have you ever wondered if trees converse with one another?" Aside from being an avid birder, I also have a strong love for trees. My grandpa was a Tree Surveyor and inspired me from a very young age. Beautiful work! 💙
Congratulations on the acknowledgement of your poem being powerful and well rooted! I found my own branches waving with the force of your words.
Back to say congratulations on having your poem selected as a Runner Up in the challenge, John. Beautiful, well wrought poem that is so deserving. Well done, my friend.
Wooohooooo congratulations on your win! 🎉💖🎊🎉💖🎊
Congratulations on placing! It was an amazing poem!
John, you wrote exactly what I think about the trees. What could they tell us if they could speak. They do commune with each other I believe. the ghostly creaking of ancient wood … a kind of music of death and dying Great work!
I often feel a reverence for trees I feel for little else.
Well-wrought! Where's the Lorax when you need him?
I wish with all my heart that I could hear that great tree speak to me and then share this story with my children... I felt this in every leaf and branch of me.
As a tree planter by profession, I really appreciate this poem! And I am 120% sure that they communicate with each other, and with other plants and mushrooms, too.
- The anemone waves being described in harmony with the tress, was such a great fit. 🌲✨ Even their trunks sway. Very magical and deep. - I love how we know what happened after the early May sun, warms the earth 🌲✨ Yes I've wondered if trees converse 😁 - dancers arms and the branches 👌🏾 🌲✨ They take notice when we lay the axe. A punch in the gut. A well needed moment of empathy, from us. - before awe closes your throat. Loved this line. 🌲✨ The family tree interwoven for the last part. A nice choice. 👌🏾Fantastic work as always, John 🤗❤️🖤👏🏾
You give one a lot to think about with lyric poem. Good job.
Beautiful work and imagery, taking us deep into those roots
Incredible, resonant work, John. You've tapped into something truly timeless in your reflections on trees - they are so very remarkable, and I adore the life and character that you find in them in this work.
What lovely, enchanting thoughts this poem embodies. I truly believe trees do have feelings, thoughts, and a desire for actions, because they are a living, thriving creature of sorts. It is certainly intriguing to think 'what if' in regard to them or to wonder what integral part they must play in the lives we weave.