Standing here
I feel as though my life
Were a rising of sap
An ascent of mind and heart
A hissing of vitality, akin to steam
➰
From earth I am drawn
To organic arising
Within a perfected tree
Which nourishes my
Imperfections
➰
Until, old and swaying
With faded crumbling leaf
Stubbornly past its fall
My substance golds then fades
And, once again, I become
Air…
➰
…Only the tree remembers
All its children
➰
©Stephen Tanham
Beautifully put, Steve, as aways!
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Thank you, Jaye; and for the reblog x
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Thank you, Sue x
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Reading this looking out at winter trees, and feeling you have captured something beautiful.
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Thank you, Sarah. That’s a lovely thing to say!
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Stunningly beautiful, Steven. I love the way the poem dropped into
Air
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Thank you, Diana.
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Reblogged this on Stuart France.
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Thank you, Stu.
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