Silver Birch
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By skinner_jennifer
- 4123 reads
Dear diary...
It was still and quiet that day when
first I held and named you Willow,
just a neonate little tree; token of
rapid intention, your swiftness to
grow echoing remnants from the past.
With forks and spades in remote
local area, reinforcements arrived,
support for creating this woodland
to one day enjoy and meander.
Curious miracles – offerings on
wings of the sky, embracing
this worthwhile consciousness,
inevitably creating energy:
soon enough letting nature
surface, both fragile and robust.
Now behind blinds in sultry heat,
precious silent visions meshing
in wonder; preparing for what
may come; that Thor the bringer
of thunder may rumble...storm
help roots to prosper; for without
rain beauty cannot flourish.
Pixabay free image.
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Comments
I do enjoy your diary entries
I do enjoy your diary entries, Jenny. A lovely read and, oh yes, a good thunder storm would be very welcome just now! Paul :)
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A beautiful little tree holds
A beautiful little tree holds so much promise for the future as long as we respect it. I often think of what those great old oak trees have witnessed in their lifetimes. We could really do with some rumbles of thunder and a good soaking but the worst of the heat is yet to come.
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Even reading the term
Even reading the term 'woodland' brings a feeling of green shade, and a feeling of fresh air straying through it! Trees do seem to survive quite a waiting for rain, but then they can drink it up, and as you say it feeds their beauty. Is that planted woodland still flouishing? An interesting use of the IP. Rhiannon
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ah without rain we are
ah without rain we are dessicated. Nicely done Jenny. Long hot summers is one thing. Long hot winters another.
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What a shame you couldn't
What a shame you couldn't mark your sapling in some way Jenny. i'm sure it's very big now - silver birches grow fast - and I think the rain is coming on Wednesday and I for one will be going out into my garden when it does! Thank you for another of your wonderful nature poems
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You are so good at conveying
You are so good at conveying how you feel, your love for the Natural world, with your gentle, rich flowing words. I understood exactly how you felt, inside the stiffness of glass windows, imagining the infinite shifting of fragile leaves, far away, both you and the tree you helped start longing for rain
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Your writings always describe
Your writings always describe beautifully your love and appreciation of nature's beauty, Jenny. even though the hot and sultry weather somehow spoils the enjoyment.
I don't know what temperature you have in your parts of the woods; here at the moment is 31 or 32.
Luigi xx
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