poem forest tree

I steal the Forest’s pain
Hoping for forgiveness,
Revelation or perhaps fame.

Black cherry trees cankered by fungus
Grow eructed, burled masses on their trunks,
High and low the trees slowly choke,
Rot, die and fall.

My chainsaw, feller of Forests entire,
Is here employed to save the lumber,
To slice the diseased knots,
To open them like jewels
Born of the struggle between vegetable and vegetable.

The burls revealed are little cosmic star-scapes,
Swirls of galaxies and nodes of pain.
I peer at the history, laid out like a doctor’s chart,
And polish the slab,
And wonder at the genesis of oceans of stars. 

I need to know the story of the life and death of trees.
Our fate depends on Forests,
And Jesus died nailed to a tree,
And strange fruit hung from limbs in the evening
At the edge of town.

Comments 8 comments

msorensson profile image

msorensson 6 years ago

Beautiful poem :-)

barranca profile image

barranca 6 years ago Author

Thanks for reading!

deborah hamilton 6 years ago

My entire spirit shifted when I read this poem. I realize how starved a person becomes when we don't read pieces as moving as this. Thank you for this poem.

barranca profile image

barranca 6 years ago Author

Deborah, What a wonderful comment. Thank you.

Hello, hello, profile image

Hello, hello, 6 years ago from London, UK

Very inspiring poem. Thank you.

barranca profile image

barranca 6 years ago Author

Hello, Glad you liked it. Thanks for stopping by.

donna bamford profile image

donna bamford 6 years ago from Canada

This one is beautiful to and with your characteristic depth. Did you have the torrid heat wave we had up here? I have written very little poetry this summer but i am working on a novel - fluff really - that takes place in Italy and taking third year Italian at the university this fall as a mature student. Arrivaderci. (Italy is one of m great loves)

barranca profile image

barranca 6 years ago Author

Hi Donna, Italy is one of my favorite travel destinations also. Being a "mature" student is far better than being an "immature" student. Ha! May the muses be with you....thanks for stopping by.

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