Poem#6 An Ardent Texas Tree

 

A tree that would like to be remembered
for better things, than the sharp shooters

sitting amongst its fortress of leaves.  Shaking
free the dark memories, it welcomes flowing

wings, and tightly woven nests with  eager
fledglings, with a fervent need to take flight. 

This tree’s hopes and dreams of life and dancing
leaves drifting up into the clouds, golden and brown 

decorating the ski spinning and twirling,  
waiting to touch the ground and graze

against the glistening water that so generously
feeds its mighty tree’s roots.  Watching the

tourists pass by on boats while guides remind  
this wise old tree of the travesties of war,

through tales of the Alamo.  This grand old tree prefers
to hear the stories of people passing by

or patrons sitting on the plantar, whispering secrets
in wondering ears, and promises of love.

Wishing for clear star lit nights and red-maple
Texas summer sunsets.  Listening to the plops

of rain on the River Walk and the melody
of happy voices singing along to restaurant mariachis.

A tree strong with memories, perceptive to love
and loathing of others, waiting to whisper

its insights through the breeze, crackling
its already crisped aged leaves.  The truth

and understandings this tree must hold, its creaking
limbs crying out the answers, and sap oozing

its thick and sticky honey truth.  Oh, how keen
this old ardent tree must be to share its beliefs.