How The Mighty Fall



fell the rains with mighty blows,

with ease sourced sap will bleed,

rivulets, their journey south,

unheeded for misdeed

of giving life and living well,

canopied to sky,

roots put down that furnish home,

nourishment from sighs,

breaths of air from tingled tips,

camouflaged as leaves,

sentinels that serve us well,

powerhouse of trees,

minions merely to our needs,

as silent voice gives breath,

blow by blow, by fatal blow,

might falls, might fells, our death


8 thoughts on “How The Mighty Fall”

  1. Love the detail in this which brings the scene alive. The cycle of life continues, but I like the way you lean towards our responsibility to guard Nature. A fine poem, Anne-Marie.


    1. I know what you mean. I see saplings and think of them as children, hoping they make it. But when I see really old trees I think of the awakened forest in Lord Of The Rings. Strength, experience, slow but sure and the weight of years to carry us. Like favourite grandparents, knowledgeable to our inexperience, steadfast and how they must shake their heads at us sometimes.

      Liked by 1 person

Comments are closed.