On a land that seems arid
Under a blue sky
She stands... meditates
Branches burdened
With yellow grief
This Autumn did not take them away.
Still here
As she was yesterday
Stubborn... Waiting...
May come winter
May rain falls
To wash down leaves that did not fall
A new tomorrow
A bird twitters
She wakes up... smiling
Same old branches
Burdened with troubles
But hope looms on the horizon
Under a blue sky
She stands... meditates
Branches burdened
With yellow grief
This Autumn did not take them away.
Still here
As she was yesterday
Stubborn... Waiting...
May come winter
May rain falls
To wash down leaves that did not fall
A new tomorrow
A bird twitters
She wakes up... smiling
Same old branches
Burdened with troubles
But hope looms on the horizon
posted by attawie at 5:13 AM
2 Comments:
The poem seems to describe a tree in three seasons from Fall to Spring. But, maybe the tree is a metaphor for suffering in the past, but hope for the future.
Just talking about seasons, I am always sad to see the leaves fall. The Winter for me is generally not a very happy time. But, I am always happy to see the new life in the Spring. :)
You got the metaphor :)
I'm never sad for the yellow leaves. They must fall sooner or later. Think of it just like any being's life.
The have to fall to give way for the next generation. The gap between falling leaves and the new buds worries me :) the smaller the gap the better generations communicate. Not sure about leaves, though.
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