Messages from My Soul

Ode to the Tree

ODE TO THE TREE

I wonder what is in your mind

As you stand there, graceful, fair;

I wonder if for this weary world

Offered you a moment's care.

What sort of intimate converse

Have you with the breeze serene;

Is it reproach, or is it love

That your runic idylls mean?

Do still remember you

The ages for which you witness stood?

Are not worn the ancient records

Of time upon your heart of wood?

Curious I am to learn how much

Hatred's been in your shadow slain;

How much pain or longing there,

How much betrayal. . . pain?

There could be so much secrets masked

And mem'ries that 'neath you sunder'd;

So once I saw you, I sat down, and

At your beauty gazing, wonder'd.