While there is still time: Trees, Curators of Time


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Trees are keepers of Eons.  They hold the earth’s genetic memory like caves, rocks, boulders and stones. They have seen births, deaths, wars, Lovers, sinners, mourners, celebrants, friends and fiends. Trees are silent yet not so silent witnesses to the passage of time and the secrets of mankind and animals. Along with the rocks, stones, boulders, caves, all flora and fauna are the original ancient libraries.

Akashic records. I await my ascent to astral plains. 

Once Asleep in other lands I will awaken to new life.

Out of dead stumps come new life.

The last recorder of human life. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Covered in shroud. Laid in a pine box.

Trees ~~ Naked and glaring in the winter.  Full and Luscious come summer.

Trees — Speak to the eternity of the Ages. Our connection to the Universe and the Cosmos.

Trees bordering lakes, rivers, beaches, oceans and seas. 

Trees | Multi-Branched Limbs gather up broken souls with tender root tendrils.

Trees lift up their branches in Praise to Almighty God.

Isaiah 55:12

New King James Version (NKJV)

12 “For you shall go out with joy,
And be led out with peace;
The mountains and the hills
Shall break forth into singing before you,
And all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.

Hodgepodge Poetry

Sweet Woodland Nature hiding captured souls. Sparkling early morn glimmer diamond dew stimulates Lightening thunder zap synapses. Shimmer. Exploring deep brain subterranean Archaeological Repositories.

Finding dense Psymbionic Crystal Castles. Hot wood-chips sip Bass Nectar. Beating out ground breaking pinewood tunes. Rescuing me from my Galactic Funk. Yet still wondering Why We kill the ones we Love. Safe Space and Sanctuary are needed on fluctuating earth planes. Don’t Shatter my Peace. Betrothed couples planning married wedded bliss. Later Yield Forever Sleeping Babes in the Woods.  In the forest a Whisper is Louder than a scream.

Every forest land creature came for the Woodland Blessed Sacred Earth Mass. Ceremony, rites and ritual calms troubled souls. Mossy glen altars I can smell the firecrackers in the night air. Populace gathered. Nostrils flaring the High Priestess decides and declares. Scribes Davenie and Dagmar sat poised with mind-generating Quills hovering above tablet-con scrolls.

False Prophet Trembling at the thought that his myth might collapse.

Panthers, Cougars and Mountain Lions calmly grooming themselves by her side. Straight ahead protective eye stares. Solve the riddle of the Sphinx and you shall receive eternal life. Beware the imps and gremlins of the Forest who sell you bursting fresh temptation baskets of produce leading to sin. A Twisted Fairly Tale that springs upon unsuspecting travelers on uncharted territories in mystical clearings. Wickedness never walks alone.

Maternity stroll down Memory Lane.

Ceding ground to no one. Seeding farmland of hungry empty souls. Will these dry bones live? Only time will tell. If one believes the Sainted Oracle. Excuse me Don Cheadle but the Green Man is on the line. Shall I ask him to hold?

Taiga Boreal

My repast. My future. My all consuming desire. O’ Beloved Tree let thy branches and thy roots be my grave markers! I’m Just an Indigo Girl on her way home. Both Banyon and Bodhi point the way.

In the warm summer rain I plant my feet into the soft moist earth and extend my arms, hand and fingers to the sky mimicking my arboreal ancestors.  As I touch the Moon/Sun I touch the earth. Wrap me in your branches. Surround me in your foliage.  Reclaim my soul unto our mutual Creator.

“Trees” Joyce Kilmer poem “I think that I shall never see/A poem lovely as a tree”

 

Moist. Paper. Shells.

Tree as Protector, Teacher and Friend

A Monster Calls (20160

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3416532/

My cousins and I scattered my Aunt Helen’s ashes by this tree located in Marcus Garvey Park located in Harlem. When my Aunt Helen was growing up in Harlem during the 1920s, 1930s and 1940s this park was known as Mt Morris Park.

 

 

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