What the Trees Are Saying
A very new poem, written at the end of November...
What the Trees Are Saying
Let them all let go,
every last one of these desiccated leaves
that still cling to us.
Let them find the courage
to let the wind launch them
on their first and last solo dance
across the sunlit stage of air.
Pirouette and grand jeté, fluttering.
Joining the gypsy skirts that swirl
around each mother tree.
Let them make way for the swelling buds
beneath the bark that masquerades
as something dead.
Let go! Let go!
Copyright ©️ 2024 by Barbara Quick
This poem means something very different to me now than it did when I wrote it. I’d love to hear your thoughts about what the poem evokes for you.
A teacher once said to me, you are never not writing. I’ve taken that to heart over the years. And I find it true that sometimes when I sit down to work, the scene appears as if I dreamt it at some other time. That’s because unconsciously I’ve been writing it all along.
The challenge of letting go every single day, even every moment.