Tinker Posted April 22, 2011 Share Posted April 22, 2011 Ancient and Alive Trees old enough to remember hearing the footsteps of God rise into clouds collecting rain to quench their thirst. Massive branches hang down and out with tips up, like an eagle stretching to snatch the wind. The sun filters through mute-green needles stitching lacy patterns on the forest floor. Blood brown trunks, nourished by the bones of the Pomo people carry the scars of epochs as they tower above the shaded ferns. while roots spread deep and broad anchored to the damp earth. At the foot of a giant a broken twig lies in the scent of mud, musk and decay, a reminder of my mortality. Here in the mist from the near-by Pacific nature's cathedral is my sanctuary. ---Judi Van Gorder Quote ~~ © ~~ Poems by Judi Van Gorder ~~ For permission to use this work you can write to Tinker1111@icloud.com Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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