Sleeping silent with the earth,
roots surround the dreamer still.
Finds a spirit within remains,
and reaches to the sun to raise.
Branches to the sacred light,
giving always love to grow.
Unfolds another tree of life,
who left us still becoming.
In its limbs the sparrow’s song,
takes this fruit on lofty wings.
Into the presence of the day,
a soul is lifted on the breeze.
This is where the road to awe,
began with the departed one.
Wasn’t grief the nourishment,
which gave this seed its life?
The Blue Wave, The Road to Awe – all colloquial expressions of the way life can end, how death can come by the hand of God, or by traveling a road into our destiny – our appointment in Samarra..
Beautiful poem – I AM in awe, of both your poem and the photo of the Giant Sequoia tree.
I have never felt so small as when I stood before these tress, not even Manhattan can compare …
I loved it and felt The Awe
It has to be amazing … awe barely describes it …
The seed must fall to the ground and die before new life is possible.
and in it is written the story of a giant …