Towering

Against the expanse
of a cerulean sky,
the massive oak
stands unintimidated.

Limbs stretch up and out
as if waking,
the tree wears its years proudly.
Scars from a long ago summer storm
mark branches
shortened in life.

Yet,
this giant holds firm to the land,
steadfast through civil war,
human encroachment
and the ravages of too hot summers.

Now,
the majesty of this gem
is easily missed by whizzing cars,
preoccupied people.

But,
the birds appreciate
the solid branches.
Foxes rest under the broad canopy.
Owls survey terra firma
from up high
in search of a nightly meal.

The best way to appreciate the power of this oak
is to come upon it by surprise.

Walking in the early hours,
I stop dead in my tracks.

Craning my neck
up
up
up
I am speechless.

“Ah, yes”
the mighty oak
seems to say
into the quiet.
“Now you understand.”

3 thoughts on “Towering

  1. The comment above got me to take a second look at the shape of your poem and I could see the ‘up/up/up as the trunk, all above it as branches, and below it as roots. I like your portrayal of a proud giant, wearing its history. Also a home and entire ecosystem to other living things. Your including the civil war reminded me of an artwork at Glenstone, where you sit in the woods and insten to an aural landscape, part of which harkens back to wartime at that spot. have you experienced it?

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  2. Beth,

    I’m so glad I circled back around and found your poem honoring that gorgeous Oak. The photo reminds me of an Oak tree in my front yard as a kid. I wanted to take that tree w/ me throughout life so planted three crimson spiraling oaks in our front side yard when we built our house in 1998. One died but the other two remain. I wrote a poem about these trees last week. And if you’re a tree person, too, check out the picture book “Leafy Landmarks.” It’s a gem.

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