Beyond this snow covered winter wood,
an orchard where once grandma stood,
waits beneath the pewter sky
Soundless, dying, as time creeps by.
Years and ages, passed undefined,
Unbridled to yesterday, fate, resigned.
One question. Just one. Existence implores.
Oh aged trees, what endures?
In biting wind of the frigid clime,
Existence assailed only by time.
The tree, its branches lifted above,
without words, replied, only love.
Existence gazed on, apple tree afar,
rattling remains, gnarled branch and scar.
The answer, tell. Yon tree must be wrong.
Wind shook dry wood, a winter song.
I sang in beauty, one summer day,
my glory, fleeting, did not stay.
How was I once so, I can inform
loving eyes rested upon my form.
Yon tree, mindless, yet wizened much,
would have no life without loving touch,
of a woman death took long years ago,
who loved the orchard in sun, snow.
All things cease; life does pass,
beyond veil, horizon, looking glass.
Grandma, the orchard, mine, yours,
in time move on. But love...endures.
In the dead of winter, the black of night,
When life has fled, even light,
Look to that across which all transcend
Love is the only and all, without end.
Wars, hatred, violence fade ever,
Love breathes life, tomorrow forever.
One answer. Just one. To all afters, befores,
only one answer. Love endures.
Copyright 2012 All rights reserved. Teresa K Cypher
One of these days, I will flip through the pages of a paper-bound collection of poems and this one will be in it. Everything else just doesn't make any sense. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks, dearie. I no longer dream of publishing poems. This blog is publication enough. I do, however, dream of publishing novels--and helping my friends to get theirs published, too. Hugs <3
DeleteTeresa my friend, words I could find to praise you would only pale in comparison. I hope I live long enough to see your works published! Love you!
ReplyDeleteHey girl, me too ! :-) I hope I live long enough to get them published. At the rate I'm going...I'm not so sure. :-)
DeleteYou definitely must write a book. Nonfiction.
Readers would be unable to put it down. :-)
Love you <3
Kind of hard to say anything else when the poem already says it all :) I'm kind of jealous of folks who still live on the same land as their grandparents and sometimes great-grandparents. I wonder what my immediate ancestors thought of snow, I wonder how they managed.
ReplyDeleteMe, I don't like winter and struggle to find positive things about it so I don't beat my head against a wall every December ;-) There is beauty in it, a sense of resting and gathering energy for the big burst of growth in spring, a transformative feel as rain becomes snow. I have to work at seeing that.
I just wish more people cleared their sidewalks :-)
It is an odd thing about humans, Owly, how easily we are scattered hither and yon, far from where we were born. Someday I'll be able to articulate my thoughts about how it is, in its own peculiar way, a curse to be where everyone knows you, knows your past, the bad along with the good, and generations worth of it. Here, I'm guilty, in ways, of my grandparents' sins. And my roots run deep. Sometimes I fear I will never, ever be able to leave. I understand Scarlett and Tara in a way that many don't. It's a double edged sword.
ReplyDeleteWinter has a beauty, unique to its time and place. If autumn makes us feel sad, winter makes us feel numb, makes us turn inward to examine things we leave be the rest of the year.
Yeah...people need to clear their sidewalks :-) !
Thanks for visiting! Hugs <3
It's funny, I'm back in the town I grew up in after 13 years away. Yet I just don't feel settled here, like I belong, even though my grandparents moved here & passed away here, and my parents were born here. The disadvantages of living here seem huge.
DeleteAnd I just don't like being cold, simple as that. I think about people millions of years ago, picking up and wandering many, many miles away with no (or little) idea of what they'd find. Without any conveniences at all. Walking the whole way. Maybe having to adjust to different climate and different surroundings. Maybe getting scared off by others along the way.
I think, wow, I couldn't do that. Life back then was real hardship. Stones for tools! I think, wow, I'm kind of spoiled! Maybe I shouldn't complain!
Ah well. Being warm is nice,that's all I know. Hugs back :)
Teresa:
ReplyDeleteThis is absolutely beautiful. Gorgeous imagery and a beautiful tribute combined. And you found the perfect photo. Just love it. :)
Thank you so much, Lisette! :-)
DeleteThat's beautiful, Teresa!
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kate!! :-)
DeleteStunning!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jess :-) !
DeleteSuch a nice read!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Tracie--and thanks for stopping by :-)
DeleteHi Teresa,
ReplyDeleteI just found you on Twitter. Never really liked twitter until now. Beautiful poem! Don't ever give up writing. You have an amazing gift with words.
Thanks, Nancy! :-)
DeleteWhat a beautiful poem. And I agree. Everything pales, fades away, eventually. But love is the constant that endures.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Elizabeth :-)
Delete