How The Mighty Fall

(source)

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

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Supple With Strength

Stunted and blunt,

Some boughs of a tree,

Poor limbs pruned till ends reveal scars,

Sealed for protection,

Sad cry from full-blown,

Stalwart, tho’ hindered, life marred.

Tapering branches,

Each new bud, every flower,

Burgeoning sap coursing through,

Roots fit to match, mirrored,

Hidden beneath,

Supple with strength to endure.

Wizened above

But with shoots still to bloom,

Shelter and shade oft provides,

Network supporting,

Sprouting, spreading and sporing,

Encompassing, lineage abides.

The Quaich – a loving cup

gifted, fashioned, crafted from a tree trunk

exquisite in its usefulness and shape

hollowed in the centre for the purpose

of holding liquid for our thirst to slake

gifted from the giver of the airy

fashioned for liquidity of life

crafted by the hands of man in union

with sources and the gifts for which we strive

no need for gilding or adornment

its beauty lies in purpose and in form

simplicity from complex matter

life- holding from life-giving

lovingly borne

(image http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quaich)