Written in 2007
The warm beams of the sun shine
Down on the ground
Melting the snow,
Warming the air.
A solid trunk stands alone
At the centre of an empty field,
Waiting for passers by
To rest in its shadow…
She leans against its skin,
Watching the leaves flutter
In the gentle north wind…
Until day would turn into night.
Feeling its roots reaching far down,
Anchored deep in the Earth…
She takes a deep breath
And just absorbs into raw power.
Birds would build nests on its branches,
Resting in the shelter of its leaves,
Until they change colour,
With that gentle caress of autumn…
Yet, a cold night dawned for mankind
That would last for decades
In which we would no longer care
For the kindness of nature…
Since then,
They would tear open the ground,
Rip out its roots violently
And the branches would rattle.
The trunk would fall on the grass,
Be chopped up in small pieces…
Loaded up on a trailer,
To be carried away, to sell and burn.
…Until there would be no more
Shadows on a summer day.
…Until there would be no more
Leaves blowing in the wind.
QuantumMediocrity 