THE SHADING TREE

nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

Well worn paths
Keep  distant footprints 
In sacred temples
Of the soul
Locked within
A poets heart
Etched in ink
Yellowed paper old.

The shading tree
Of many years
Cradles joy
And yet some tears
Aging roots
That reach below
Happiness and sorrow
In equal row.

Its memory sighs
As if to sleep
When night it falls
And quiet seeks
A tender dream
That lifetime spans
A million memories
In its hands.

 

Comments +

Comments5

  • sorenbarrett

    In this poem I hear metaphor the trees become the paper the paths are virtual and imagined. The roots may be for a poem or of life itself. Nicely written it is a fave

  • orchidee

    A fine write N. That'll be the tree by the bus stop, that's grown from a seed, since you been waiting there! lol.

  • Friendship

    Lovely written. Your poem explores the interplay of memory, emotion, and the passage of time. It reflects on the experiences that shape the human soul, emphasizing the balance between joy and sorrow and the significance of memories in one’s life.

  • Tristan Robert Lange

    This is one of those pieces that earns its ending, my friend. The poet’s heart, the shading tree, the sleeping memory…it all builds toward that final image of a lifetime held gently in open hands. Beautifully done, Norman! 🌹🖤🙏🕯️🐦‍⬛

  • arqios

    Could it that the fallen leaves and twigs be as poems and poets making up millions of perpetuated memories....

    • nephilim56 ( Norman Dickson)

      it could indeed, thanks for reading, much appreciated my friend

      • arqios

        Most welcome friend 🙏🏻🕊️



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