Monday 8 February 2010

The Fallen Tree




Once this fine tree graced a forest.
Natures noble green giant.
Birds nested and played amongst the leaves.
Searched for insects in the tough brown bark of the tree
Safe and secure in its green canopy.
Whilst berries and nuts in abundance during summer
Sustained many, through the harsh cold of the dark winter months.

Squirrels lived aloft, high above the forest floor.
Raised their young to race around its branches,
Scamper up and down the solid brown trunk,
Storing food in hidden places for leaner times.

Its base was shade for plants and flowers.
Lovers rested in the heat and haze
Of a hot summers afternoon.
Its roots dug deep into the earth
Seeking out moisture and providing shelter
And safety to small mammals ,
Who foraged for food and slept beneath.

Trees are the lungs that breathe for the earth.
Clarifying the air and purifying the wind.
Its roots prevent erosion
That steals the soil, that grows the food,
That feeds many

Now the tree is dead.
Killed by the swift blows of an axe.
Uprooted from its bed of rich warm soil
By the cold relentless pounding of the sea.
Carried across the ocean
And washed ashore, from who knows where.

Val Cook
February 2010