Filed under: poetry | Tags: life, moving, nature, roots, stagnation, still, trees, writing
You once told me that I should uproot myself
to keep growing. To stay is stagnation.
But I’d rather be a tree
than a stressed house plant,
constantly searching for a larger pot.
While you mock me for my immobility,
my roots demolish the hard ground around me.
There is always something new
if you probe far enough, deep enough.
I will have lived in less exotic soils,
but we will see who grows taller.
You can gaze out the window,
longing for your next transplant.
I will stay. I will spread.
Young plants will sprout in soil I have loosened.
Generations of wildlife will use my twigs
to build homes within the shelter of my branches.
I may stay, but I am not still.
Filed under: art, multi-media, poetry, space, writing | Tags: art, illustration, nature, painting, poetry, space, space tree, surreal, trees, writing
This tree floats in outer space,
and late each night
I’m at its base,
Filed under: beauty, Death, emotions, Nature, poetry, Trees, writing | Tags: death, poetry, tombstones, trees, writing
When I die, don’t buy me a tombstone
or an inscribed statuary…
I enjoy rocks as much as the next girl,
but I have no need of them when I’m dead.
Instead bury me someplace high
and plant a Norway Spruce.
Carve my name. Tell it your wishes.
Know the tree is me
and let me shade you.
Claire Thalken 2013
CarvingCalf – Calves are the young of domestic cattle. →