MOTHER OAK





A tree poem to end the week, in homage to a much loved Oak, long may it stay hidden and protected. 


Long days pass without sight of people;
I hear them near, Summer sounds,
laughing children splashing in pools,
humming chatter of families,
cars raising dust on dry dirt lanes.
I remain hidden, concealed,
buffered by barbed brambles 
guarded by my progeny, holly spiked 
holm oaks circling my secluded grove.

Today she returned once more,
this quiet human friend,
mother walking with daughter,
their hushed words vibrating
on the still autumn air,
they brush open the brier gate,
treading softly on crinkle leaf carpet,
stopping to face me, arm in arm,
I absorb their awe at my presence.

Deep roots transmit crunched footsteps,
the sun caked earth trembling,
she pauses to seek whispered blessing,
here are the tree seekers, tree keepers,
I sense the trust of their gentle touch,
browned arms girdle my jagged bark,
fingers entwine, cheeks laid close, eyes closed,
divine their deep nature as we share heart spirit,
tree people united in healing embrace.


© 2018 Jacqueline Knight Cotterill.  All rights reserved. 



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