The TREE (perseverance and determination)

Rhyming Couplets formed into Quatrains to save on vertical length, in an aabb, ccdd, etc; rhyme scheme, lines of iambic tetrameter (8-counts/4 poetic feet) … in homage to the Highest Spirit in us all.

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.-~=•˜The TREE˜•=~-.

:

It stands there on that barren hill

with limbs stretched wide, sunlight to fill.

The tree grew proud, so strong and high,

its branches reaching t'ward the sky.

.-~*~-.

The tree looked down and saw bare stone,

in silence cried, “I’m all alone;

but, I’ll face fate without a fear,

one day to find fulfillment here!”

.-~*~-.

In Springtime, skies brought gushing rain,

as storms built strong in harsh disdain.

Gales slashed the tree that had no choice,

with their wild force of vernal voice;

.-~*~-.

Then, falling ... fell down hard to earth,

on shard-strewn soil that gave it birth.

The tree was broken, filled with pain,

but struggled; then, stood up again.

.-~*~-.

The Summer’s day produced a storm,

from tropic air, both thick and warm.

Gilt lightning flashed a jagged fire,

to strike the tree with violent ire.

.-~*~-.

Consuming flames flared hot with glee,

seared tender branches off the tree.

If not for quenching rain's downfall;

perhaps, it might have taken all.

.-~*~-.

Through Autumn's craze of frigid flak,

its limbs grew stiff to freeze and crack.

Heard Winter portent's warning spell;

deprived of leaves … again, it fell.

.-~*~-.

The tree, once sure, now filled with doubt;

for, it, this season might die out.

Though, stripped and raw upon that hill,

it swore to life ... come on what will.

.-~*~-.

Then, Winter came with frigid snows,

the direst, yet, of savage blows.

Through splintered dread of icy hell,

felt numbing pangs in thawing's quell.

.-~*~-.

Despair engulfed, a drowning sea

that soaked so deep into the tree.

Each Winter does one Spring day end;

it's then, all wounds begin to mend.

.-~*~-.

Yet, scarred from life, it lives on still;

there's newfound hope atop that hill.

The tree's known pain of loss and grief;

now's, learned the value of each leaf.

.-~*~-.

One sunlit day in early Spring,

the tree looked down and saw this thing;

'neath gnarled, protective arms of wood …

a tender little sapling stood.

:

.-~=<†>=~-.

:

·

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Richard W. Jenkins

~ ©1976 ~

Photo by G.Dan Mitchell

PhD WINNER

Nature Poetry Contest

Author's Note

Another long one … this, from the early archives.

Constructive critique and helpful comments are always welcomed (by anyone)! : )

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

wow Richard love this, trees are wise old creatures i believe they feel and can see us.
I know that sounds like a lot of gobblegosh but I have proof, (dont put me in the mad house yet) lol.
I ground every day in my yard barefoot. so occasionally at dusk I go out well I go out a lot at dusk and stand barefoot and touch the trees, there is no breeze whatsoever, then as they feel me touch their leaves or branch, the top or bottom part of the tree and the branches nearby move in sway. Its quite beautiful then i noticed the ones next get my attention and do the same.
Maybe im psycho or psychic lol

Loved your write good rhyming !

[Richard&#128396;]

Hi, Dear Julie 🌿

It is rare anyone takes time to venture back into my portfolio for something to read and review, but I'm so very pleased you have taken the opportunity to do so … and, a more graciously generous, beautifully rendered review I cannot recall receiving.

Then, the cherry on top is that you've shared something personally wonderful and highly interesting to wrap my fertile imagination around … something I fully comprehend. I say this because, combined with your personal discernments on the conscious life of trees, I once read a book titled, "The Secret Life of Plants" that awoke in me a deep understanding of how floral and arboreal living beings feel and react when receiving the energy of outer stimulus. No, Julie, I don't think you're speaking gibberish or that you're a psycho, but I do recognize in you my harmonious soul.

That you love anything about my writing is a true blessing beyond words … yet, I'm ever-so warmly pleased you do.

Thank you, Dear Julie, for sharing my amazing live oak tree with me! ⁓ Richard🖌

[Light and ashes]

How much like a person this tree is. You did a beautiful job with this.

[Richard&#128396;]

Thanks, so much for reading this marathon piece, and for your very nice compliment. 🌾

read moreThanks, so much for reading this marathon piece, and for your very nice compliment. 🌾

Blessings! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[Richard&#128396;]

Blessings! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[Light and ashes]

You are welcome. I am sorry if I don't read more often. I am a moody and erratic person, and similarly I am constantly in and out.

[LeslieNoel]

Honestly, this is one of the most beautiful poems I've ever read. It's very touching and I feel that this is how people go through life. Every destruction we face makes us stronger. Well done. I am damned impressed.

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you, Dear Leslie 🍂

Now, you can understand why your beautiful "Growth of a Tree" brought this olde poem to mind, eh?
That you think so highly of my humble effort truly and sincerely makes writing and sharing it feel so gratifying, and in your expressed deep understanding of its essence lets me know it is a worthwhile piece … you've such a lovely heart.

Thank you again, ever-so warmly, Leslie, for enduring and finding such poetical and emotional value in this rather marathon length poem. ⁓ Richard🍃

[LeslieNoel]

You are very welcome. Thank you for your support and kind words. You have a lovely heart as well. I look forward to reading more of your work. :)

[Richard&#128396;]

As do I, Leslie, look forward to sharing many more of yours, as-well.
You're a very special lady. 😏

[barleygirl]

It's not unusual for writers to use trees as a comparison for various aspects of life, but I've never seen anyone drag an unsuspecting tree thru such a long detailed rash of life's s**t! . . . resembling the true thrashing that life can often deal. THIS is a superior depiction of how trees can tough it out. THIS is a popping way to convey how to model oneself after a tree, if one wants to survive life's continual thrashing! A few years back I spent 2 years learning to walk again after neck surgery & I didn't use a rehab, just hunkering down out here in the wilderness, struggling along a dirt road on crutches, then later with a cane, etc. Millions of times I felt as if my legs would collapse & fail -- so I looked up at the towering live oaks around me & envisioned my legs being THAT strong & resilient! (((HUGS))) Fondly, Margie

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you, Dear Margie 🍂

I am surprised you found this olde marathon piece, and most humbly grateful for your always most excellent review.
True, it is not special that my mind wandered to a desperate tree as the emblematic essence of my own life, and surely to those of many others' … especially, symbolic to Yours.
To your indomitably stalwart spirit, I most humbly bow, and give grateful thanks for how wonder it is to have met you and enjoyed sharing your incomparably unique poetry … You are as inspiring as any strong, tall oak tree.

You've gifted the site a brilliantly illuminating light … thank You, again, Our Wonderful Margie! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[prema]

So very beautifully written

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you, Prema, most humbly and gratefully! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Beautiful and perfect are the only words to describe this epic tale of the tree. You are the master of technical verse which few can achieve with such ease. It scares the like of I to death. Though I would, dare I say argue dear Richard that trees live in cycles that allow for the seasons!
PS has a go at the Nabla Del and failed in spectacular form: see 'Artemis Accords!'

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you, John,

For taking-on this vast column of verbosity; especially, for your inspiring words of praise and expressed appreciation.
True, what you say trees and seasons, My Friend, in the typical scheme of things … but, this poem (obviously) extends beyond the pale of norm, as do so many of our lives; thus, not to miss (or, dismiss) the allegory.

Thank you, John, for trying the Nabla Del … I think you've done an exemplary job, as you have with this very thought-filled review.

With many grateful blessings! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Sorry Richard, I did see the allegory but I guess I did not capture it in my comment.

[Richard&#128396;]

I would not think so, John,

But, with your comment, "I would, dare I argue, dear Richard, that trees live in cycles that allow for the seasons!" I wondered.

[Chris Shaw]

Beautifully and richly conveyed. Filled with emotion. You have written on a subject here dear Richard that is close to my heart. Trees are an important part of my life. I have a silver birch outside my bedroom window, that I view everyday throughout all seasons. My sentinel. A constant for the last thirty eight years. We frequent the river and moor at an island in the Thames called the Lynch. There is an oak tree there that I hug. It is huge. Five times the width of my enbrace. I hug that tree for all it has endured. Everything that has taken place, over hundreds of years. A true testament to endurance. I particularly liked the way your poem ends, with the introduction of a sapling. That was so very satisfying. Made me feel that despite everything, life continues. Thank you for the gift of your beautiful poetry and for noticing mine. I did enjoy this one, so much. Have a lovely day. Blessings.

Chris

[Richard&#128396;]

G'day, Lady Chris 🍁

What a bountifully beautiful review you've gifted this marathon length olde poem, and how warmly thrilled I am to receive those wonderfully related personal parts of your own life shared with those two amazingly glorious trees. My favorite is an over hundred year-old spreading black walnut just outside my home office window … I'm proud to know we share a love and high regard for our trees.
Your understandings and interpretation of this composition, combined with your expressed appreciation and praise warm an olde bard's soul and make his happy heart dance.

Thank you, Dear Chris … you're first-class in my book! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[Unspoken poet]

In splintered dread of icy hell,
its numbing pain, with cold did quell

Oh WOW! To these lines here, Icy hell - it shall be a cold one and with the numbing pain,
excellent choice of wording. Nicely represented.

[Richard&#128396;]

Thank you, Kay-T,
for another lovely and inspiring review, along with such grateful praise.read moreThank you, Kay-T,
for another lovely and inspiring review, along with such grateful praise.

Bless you, Kind Poetess! ⁓ Richard 🍃

[Relic]

Long, yes, but worth the read. The ending gave me a sigh.

I noticed lots of f and v sounds too. Along with some alliteration sprinkled in spots.

Excellent poem, Richard.

[Richard&#128396;]

Ever-so gratefully, Dear Tim 🍂

I thank you for taking time to read and comment on this marathon piece, staying long enough to reap its final well-deserved reward from all its dire challenges.
How rewarding it is, too, on an artistic level, to know you took notice of the finer nuances that serve to gift this rather soul-touching piece a little extra bit of interesting poetical life and breath.

Thank you again, My Fine Friend, for your inspiring compliment … it may interest you to know that after all these years, I still sigh at the ending, too! ⁓ Richard 🍃