Breathing through
sighing in boughs ,
Turning sides , creaking trunks ,
wet , dark ,
dank
slippery ,
silvery,
mucus moss green
, mean
giant
robust
what makes you stand
a primeval wand
gnarled with magic
year
after glorious year
what makes you brood
in silence profound
with infinite patience
you let nests , pestilence
run berserk
all over
shadow with your arms
the young ones grow
in shade bow
to you Majesty
Tall , unfaltering
unspeaking
when was the last time
you threw a tantrum
and blew nests , withered leaves
bark bits and un feathered
hatchlings ,into rain beaten wind ?
Having swallowed
thunderous turmoil
of the brazen skies
having heard millions of
angst filled bird cries
having weathered
man's glut and pride
the hack of the saw
the cut of the swing
the axe- hammer thud
what are you ?
Some God ?
The other day
a new bride , human , frail
came to you , incense and wail
lit a lamp , wiped her tears
you embraced her fears
sheltered her fragile flame
and sent her home with a name
on her lips of you
what are you?
Some messiah ?
Humbug , it is easy
to dismiss , crazy
But oh !!
Your leaves were in a riot
the birds had such a fright
Not you , never took flight
stoic , stood upright
eventually the wind tired
the storm petered
did bow
to triumphant you
Who are you ?
What God?
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