I am shadowed in the shade of the tree, <br />in the soft leisure of flowering green, <br />observing how the sky descends slowly - <br />a brooding poet seeking the serene. <br /> <br />The fruit of all seasons hangs by a thread, <br />clinging to life like gnarled hands on a rail. <br />The knife-edged years, unrelenting, have fled, <br />renting the dreams that impassioned my veil. <br /> <br />I absorb the breath of blossoms and fruit <br />as fireflies flit across autumn scatters. <br />I planted this tree and love gave it root; <br />and in this world, love is all that matters. <br /> <br />The season of loneliness has arrived, <br />and there is a sense of punctuation. <br />I suffered the storms and somehow survived <br />the longest whisper of desolation. <br /> <br />The window's light is like a candle flame <br />to a mateless moth that dives with daring. <br />She throws herself against the window frame <br />until she falls to the ground, despairing. <br /> <br />I bow my head and remember my place. <br />The waves of time create a great divide. <br />I am still in love, a pitiful case. <br />I miss him; yet, I feel him at my side. <br /> <br />So when I am buried beneath this tree <br />and the roots of love reach towards the sky, <br />may he come visit to remember me, <br />to sit in my shadow and wonder why … <br /> <br />Why he waited too long to taste the fruit <br />of yesterday's truth now torn to shatters. <br />I planted this tree and love gave it root; <br />and in this world, love is all that matters.<br /><br />Linda Marie Van Tassell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/tree-of-love-2/
