Broken Tree
Stream of Consciousness poem. About...nature, inspiring and motivational too. Hopefully
Stand still please,
look and see,
the magic, and wonder
of my broken knee.
...
Did I say knee,
I meant to say tree.
Its rings, a gateway to its soul.
Its whole life spent watching
the garden of the great and bold,
good and pure, wretched and foul,
young and old with troubled bowel.
...
Gaze at its ring, kiss its ring?
Honour it. Cherish it.
Give it the reverence it's owed.
For standing when you sat, standing when you lay,
standing when you tended to this and that,
fed the children, worked your job, complained about the slog.
Standing when you were doing your thing,
late at night in the cyber world,
or while you worked, cheated,
snorted enough coke to make Elton John choke
while it stood and stood and waited
for anything, just anything and everything.
...
Never complaining, prostrating,
failing or falling, giving in or up.
No dirty deeds, just standing,
watching, photosynthesising.
Shadowing the garden where the dogs do their business,
where you wish you did the carnal business,
if only you had feelings of youthful abandonment.
...
Where it sheltered you in a freak shower from the heavens-
you waited under and lamented.
How little you pay attention to the gloriousness
of nature that surrounds you, me, us.
Score its epitaph in its rotted stump,
"the watcher was here, but who watched the watcher,
who did anything other than standing there, watching as the watcher fell?"
We all sighed, complained, when the council felled it,
as they took it down a size or two, to the stump that remains
with its roots still embedded in the ground beneath.
But, what did we learn?
...
The animals serenaded it, I'm sure,
with a silent and saddening ode,
a solemn and stirring elegy
to the watcher who stood,
watched and waited,
for anything, just anything and everything
*
Thanks for reading!
Author's Notes: Had this for a long time, since I started my stream of consciousness pieces a couple of months ago or so. It's quite self-explanatory. Although in our situation, the weather brought down the tree...but I had heard some stories of trees being cut down unnecessarily.
Also...little update...I'm slowly working my way through the comments section of this piece, so will get to all your wonderful pieces eventually. Just in case any one was worried I'd forgotten.
Here are some other things you might enjoy.
About the Creator
Paul Stewart
Scottish-Italian poet/writer from Glasgow.
Overflowing in English language torture and word abuse.
"Every man has a sane spot somewhere" R.L Stevenson
The Accidental Poet - Poetry Collection is now available!
https://paulspoeticprints.etsy.com
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Comments (13)
who did anything other than standing there, watching as the watcher fell…. Oh how strongly this resonates with part of me in my situation! Really enjoyed this one Paul… it’s coming at a time where I keep seeing videos of the ‘beauty’ of Scotland… and now I am really awake… I see just how bald the landscape is. Where are the glorious forests that should stand there? (A. we made paper from that glorious life to wipe our asses on… Because apparently installing ‘bum guns’ in our bathrooms is just too advanced for us in Europe/ UK / US 🤦🏻♀️)
Powerful- a tragic ending for an undoubtedly wonderful watcher. Really loved this, Paul. <3
Love!!!
I really enjoyed the insight and perspective of the tree being around for all time, and overlooking the rest of life. A nice reminder, especially about their rings, just how long trees have been around, and what they've seen. Beautiful poem, Paul!
Hahahahhahahaha I especially loved the Elton John choking part 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
So well written Paul!
Great poem, Paul! This really resonated with me. If you're quiet enough and still enough, even for just a few moments, you can feel their power.
Skillfully explores the beauty and significance of a tree, drawing parallels between its resilience and their own experiences. The juxtaposition of the broken knee and the tree's rings adds depth to the reflection on life's journey and the passage of time. The vivid imagery and raw emotions convey a sense of connection to nature and the often overlooked wonders around us. Prompts us to appreciate the profound impact of even the simplest elements of our environment, inviting introspection and gratitude. Loved it.
I’m with DK on this one, Paul. I liked everything about this poem: the rhythm and meter, the observations - serious, silly or ribald- the sense of great loss at its felling. There is something mystical about an old tree and magical about an old growth forest. On a windy day you can hear the ancient trees creaking as they sway.
Appreciated the consistent personnification of the tree as a watcher. A great contemplative piece! I admit we did just have to cut a tree down at our new house because it had been growing at a 45 degree angle into the house for who knows how many years
Love your thoughts and the way you give homage to trees....love them
I'm still having strong feelings about the tree felled at the bottom of my garden. Me, I appreciate the trees.
How do you feel after a SoC poem?