Tree of Life

Sometimes waiting changes everything, Sunday Scribbling prompt#231 wait

Like Elijah in the bible,
he ran as though
life depended on it,
suspended from it.
He was running from
life to an end
of his choosing,
his own way of losing.
No answers, no quick fix,
no way out or bag of tricks,
would make it alright;
make a way out, a way up,
a way back into life,
to his wife to his dreams
that flowed out like
fast streams, wasted down
to the ocean. He ran til
his breath burned and still
found no solace. But one tree
stood tall with good solid
branches, to hold one, to
tie one to fate, and unnoticed
his gone-ness would offer
it’s own apologetics. What
did he believe and was it
all really worth it? He
laid down to rest thinking
after and after, to tie
one good knot and climb
high in the bowers, and one
leap of faithlessness ending
the hours of worry and searching
for answers, for reasons.
To keep on the working, the
trying, the seasons,
and so he did slumber in
shade softly under
the tree which did wonder
why it should be punished?
Should then be remembered
as death’s final say so. It
turned to the sun and in
whispers and pleas found
the answer in grace for the
sun talks to trees, and it’s greenery,
finery, turned into poetry.
Hope and tomorrows
did shower the fellow on
waking, and shaking
the sleep from his eyes and
aware, that he never again
would see skies noticed
leaves filled with light, filled
with words of the world, with
his memories, forgotten and
stashed away folded
like small bits of paper
stuck back in dark cracks
and scuffed up worn roughed up
in old billfolds, reading in wonder,
and tender, and love torn
asunder, he leaned back
on the tree and put his hand on
the bark and said, thank you
and stood. With a last look
he turned and walked back
where he came from, his shoulders
unburdened and next to the base
of the tree now unheeded
unneeded, a small length
of rope slowly covered as wind
blew brown leaves down and
rain washed the tree down
with promise of sunshine
in future tomorrows

10 thoughts on “Tree of Life

  1. Someone Is Special

    Lovely Poem… Wait at its best..

    Do stop by Someone Is Special to enjoy the wait..

    –Someone Is Special–

  2. Jae Rose

    We all need that tree to rest under at times. Beautiful energy and rhythm to your words Dee – you could feel him running and then staying in the safety of the branches. I am glad that rope got blown away..jae

  3. Lilibeth

    A good place for a rope like that, cover deeply by memories of brighter hopes… and why should the tree be punished after all. I like that little vegetative indignation that sparks hope and brings about a great ending.

  4. old egg

    In this piece I felt that he had inadvertently found the tree of knowledge and being in its care for that short time was relieved of his cares and being re-born was able to start life anew. Great piece.

  5. Dee Post author

    thank you all – Lilibeth I love the phrase “vegetative indignation” and Old Egg – I loved telling a story in this poem 🙂

  6. anno

    I liked this tree, and I liked this poem very much: all of us have days when we could use a restorative pause; important to notice that we need it before desperation and despair set in.

    1. Dee Post author

      true words – the story of Elijah is one of my favorite scriptures – he had run from Jezebel because she was killing prophets. He asked god to just go ahead and kill him and the angels told him to lay down and sleep. When he woke up they fed him. I think that is what happens when God sends us people in times of trial that feed us, physically and spiritually. The bible verse wasn’t the prompt, but it made me think of it. Sometimes when life is overwhelming we do just need to rest and eat to have a better perspective. It doesn’t fix things but it leaves us a little stronger to face them. Thank you.

  7. paschal

    Awesome poem, Dee. Buddha found his tree: I think your Man found what the other woke to on his own dawning day. Love the way this poem runs and then comes to rest.

    1. Dee Post author

      this one was a pure joy to write. There was a prompt and I took it to heart and made it a story in a poem. I could feel it as it played out.

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