"by their fruit"
trees
by their yield
are known
but i -
my sap is sealed
my root is dry
a muted weight descends
listening
(to the sepulchre)
with stranded attention
death
too
can be sweet
in the dying breeze
thereafter, leaves fall
silent
.
-
Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: July 8th, 2026 05:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 62
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange
- In collections: Archival file.
Offline)
Comments9
enjoyed my friend
Good to know, Norman! Thank you 🙏🕊️
most welcome
Cryptic this borrows from the biblical and becomes metaphorical. Well written this poem has a sense of quiet power. Nicely done my friend
An excellent launchpad in many ways. Thanks for taking that dive dear friend. 🙏🕊️
My pleasure Cryptic
Good write A.
Thank you O.
good write
Thank you
Last two Stanzas tell of Death as in Autumn when the Leaves fall from the Trees. .
How much like the trees us humans can be. Thanks, Kevin 🙏🕊️
My friend, what a powerful piece. I love how restrained it is...you let the images do the work, and they carry both sorrow and an unexpected tenderness. "My sap is sealed / my root is dry" hit me especially hard, and that quiet ending leaves the whole poem echoing in the mind. Excellent write, arqios. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
My friend, what a powerful piece. I love how restrained it is...you let the images do the work, and they carry both sorrow and an unexpected tenderness. "My sap is sealed / my root is dry" hit me especially hard, and that quiet ending leaves the whole poem echoing in the mind. Excellent write, arqios. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦⬛
There’s a strain of sadness and resignation to fate underlying this verse- very well done
Death is silence and dark. Very good write. We fear what we dont understand.
Indeed. Thank you for giving of your valued time and thoughts 🙏🏻🕊️
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