Whose Planet Is It Anyway?

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Remembering Katie

The grove is quiet in winter.
Bare twigs on tiny saplings,
a sky like a cold grey blanket
left behind by a child long ago.

Somewhere within its silent core
each tree remembers the essence of its being,
the patterns of leaf and flower and seed.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly,
the little trees continue growing,
their innate structure unfolding as it should.
Nature knows the rightness of her creations.

One day, the trees will be tall and strong.
Children will run laughing through the grove,
each thriving in her own vibrant pattern
as branches arch overhead into eternity,
protecting, nurturing, affirming.

The trees will remember.



  • ((tears))

    By Anonymous hj, at 10:09 PM  

  • Truly beautiful!

    By Blogger r.b., at 6:32 AM  

  • breathtaking...

    By Blogger S.L., at 10:35 AM  

  • This is perhaps the most moving of all the tributes I have read so far. Exquisite.

    By Blogger Niksmom, at 11:33 AM  

  • ...The trees will remember.

    As will we all.

    This was beautiful.


    By Blogger Club 166, at 6:11 PM  

  • This post moved me to tears. Both my son and I have stood among those saplings growing in the Scottish Highlands, your poem took me back there. So beautiful!

    Thank you.


    By Anonymous Mike McCarron, at 9:51 AM  

  • Thanks Mike and everyone else. This was very hard to write, emotionally, and I appreciate your taking the time to comment.

    By Blogger abfh, at 3:12 PM  

  • Well done, madam.

    By Blogger Evonne, at 3:06 PM  

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