The time of ancient trees

The time of ancient trees

 

On the Island of ancient trees

A spring day entered the world

 

In the profusion of sunshine

It supplied fresh green

To the gray-green bark of life.

With dashes but not final dots

It engraved grotesque compositions

 

Faces silently tired

Furrowed by wind

Washed by rain.

The intrusive time reminded me of

Their similarity to human faces

How many times did a gale enter this forest

Lashing with storms

the ancient polyheaded oaks.

Did it take away the breath of beech trees

Uproot the weak ones, break the boughs?

 

In this forest something has lasted

Bent, groaned,

Lived, died.

The intrusive time reminded me

That in our world it’s been all alike.

 

 

 

© 2016 Barbara Kobos Kaminska All Rights Reserved