Gnarled Tree

You stand there in the wind

leaves dropped to the ground

and blown away running

down a sea of earth

as you stand sun drenched

in bark on the grey tone scales

reminding me of aged ivory

piano keys that sing a

well tuned melody, you,

your melody rises as

I watch the curves

and turns of your

outstretched branches

always finding a way

to turn back upwards

on their journey.

My eye stops here and there

at gnarled knots that have

given way to hiding places

for children’s marbles,

bird feather and ants–

treasures I see when

I stand closer, but

watching from a distance

it is like the knots on hands

which have become rheumatoid

after years and years of nurturing,

or writing out words, or running

one’s fingers over keys swiftly

or holding a brush dripping with color.

You are so fine standing there

against the blue white clouded sky

weaving its way between your branches

kissing you with the oxygen of life.

I can not see your roots, but if I could

I am sure that they grow deep down

in the ground and can survive

no matter what the storm.

When spring comes small peeks

of sage green will bud and nestle

within your branches and birds

will find home there to sing to you

the promise of another spring

come soon, come soon.

©Roseroberta 2010

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