The Hanging Garden Tree
on the Tall Tree Trail, Meares Island,
in Clayoquot Sound
Trees are portals of living memory,
doorway to mystery and secret dimensions,
above and below-ground.
A tree is a vault of stored history,
songs and dances of the old ones,
forever remembered.
They have recorded every lonely wolf howl,
caw of Raven, piercing cry of Eagle.
If you place your ear to a mossy trunk,
you might hear a whisper of whalesong;
lie down and listen under the earth,
to the pulse of life traveling
along the roots
across the forest floor.
It is sacred, here.
We enter their world as visitors.
We listen.
In deep, deep peace,
our heart rate slows.
We breathe,
and are renewed.
I place my hand on your trunk,
Sister Tree,
in wonder,
in connection,
in solidarity,
in gratitude,
with deep admiration.
Your forest, my cathedral,
I enter humbly, as a guest.
I come away transformed,
other-worldly,
kin.
The word I am looking for, here,
I suppose, is reverence.
I borrowed the phrase "trees are portals" from advertising about an event to be held in Stanley Park, Vancouver, this summer by the Aeriosa and Spakwus Slulem Eagle Song Dancers. Their art card states "Old growth trees in Stanley Park are living portals. Witnesses of ancient Coast Salish celebrations and ceremonies, they are the connectors, the ones who will remember today's songs and dances when we too are gone." What a beautiful thing to think about. Befriend a tree, kids.......it will long remember you.
posted for Margaret's prompt at Real Toads for Day 4 of NaPoRiMo: to write a nature poem
It so beautiful and spiritual, Sherry. Am finding myself, crying, at the casual disregard Western Civilization has treated its richest resource of healing, spiritually and physically.
ReplyDeleteWe listen.
ReplyDeleteIn deep, deep peace,
our heart rate slows.
We breathe..
That sounds so serene..!
I believe that rocks and trees do this for earth as our bones and skeletons do to us--collect and connect our past. You articulate the deeper mysteries, how to meet them in holy ground. You move my heart to touch a tree.
ReplyDeleteStill love this!
DeleteWe need to maintain a connection with the songlines of the earth in order to progress holistically. In such a world, prestige and bank accounts have no value. And neither they should.
ReplyDeleteI believe that...and seeing those aged trees in Vancouver was awe-inspiring ~ Lovely eco-poem Sherry ~
ReplyDeleteAwareness of the world around us as it comes out of the can. A lot are missing that opportunity now with so much electronic entertainment and social networking. I have memories still of quite a few trees in my life.
ReplyDelete..
Beautiful poem! I adore trees and your words
ReplyDeleteI grew up among trees. They were comforters when I cried. Adventure when I climbed. Awe when I saw them in bloom. I love your meditation.
ReplyDeletewe don't have the patience to listen, do we~
ReplyDeleteNice - what a most excellent metaphor.
ReplyDeleteI wish more people had your reverence.
ReplyDeleteThe idea of trees as living portals is very cool. Your poem gives me a feeling of serenity.
ReplyDeletea vault of stored history... I think I will go hug a tree tomorrow.
ReplyDeletethere was a big ole oak that was in our back yard when i was flowering also. i sat before once because it called to me and i sat silent and still. its roots i could feel underneath me, i'd look up to it's stretching high to where it's arms and fingers touched the sky. as i sat there the wind rustled its leaves and her a jingle come from within its trunk then i hear the wind whistle its song. i think i understood. it taught me how to be selfless, how to be 'it'. it channeled, it trumpeted the song of the earth and all it's inhabitants.
ReplyDelete