This poem was inspired by a walk through the Royal Botanical Gardens in Edinburgh. The amazing number of huge, ancient, unique trees brought to mind an image of elders.
Realm of the Elders
by Marilyn R. WilsonIt sounded benign, a nice day in the sun
A botanical park - I assumed flowers
I strolled through the gate, completely unaware
Ahead of me lay the realm of elders.
Venerable, majesty, ancient and wise
They appeared like monoliths, silent and still
Their skin creased with age, each form unique
Proudly they stood, drawing awe and respect
Some stretched arms skyward, curving and wide
Like multi-legged octopi standing on their heads
Another laid low, looking broken and odd
It’s arms spread like roots crawling over the ground
Others took the shape of nuclear mushrooms
Their limbs domed umbrellas offering shade
Next came military regiments, arms rigidly set
Evenly up their body as if in permanent salute
The elders drew my eyes ever upward
Until they with reached the deep blue sky.
There nature created a gallery quality offering
The elders crowns displayed in their glory
Finally lowering my eyes I discovered
The diminutive ones, the elders' court
Arms held scattered like starbursts
Some flowered, with tiny leaves a-flutter
Shy, understated, they stood with respect
Ever in attendance to the ancient ones above
Their airy, fragile beauty softly whispered of
Quiet days, family picnics, and little kids’ laughter
In the realm of the others time paused for a rest
The weight of the centuries brought a deep stillness
It seemed tht the elders slept, yet there was
An illusive feeling they silently watched
My eyes glanced back as I walked out the gate
At the lush, green vistas, the sun still ablaze
Then a thought arose, I wonder what would it be like
To visit these elders in the inky dark of night
Comments
Post a Comment