As the last ice age
receded,
birches set roots
in stony ground,
pioneers,
trees of beginnings,
the first in the Ogham alphabet.
At Samhain,
birch twigs drive out spirits
of the old year,
and here,
at the end of the garden, my goddess grows,
silver bark shining
in sunlight
and shimmering
in moonlight,
standing tall,
her fungus-studded trunk
branched, twig-hands
pointing to the sky.
She is
the first tree to come into leaf,
the first
to greet me
with a silver-tongued sigh,
towering
above
all the trees
that surround her.
Kim M. Russell, 6th December 2023
This Wednesday, over at What’s Going On?, Sherry has shared a special poem that gave her the idea for this week’s prompt: it’s called ‘The Tongues of Falling Trees’ by Vancouver’s Poet Laureate, Fiona Tinwei Lam.
The idea is ‘that, in our poems, we can be the voice of falling trees, can speak their fear and pain, and also their beauty and life-giving properties. Our poems can be voices for the many beyond-human beings who share this planet with us, and suffer so terribly because of our encroachment, and their loss of habitat, as trees fall to clearcutting and development, accelerating the climate crisis’.
So, in our poems we are speaking for the trees: maybe forests we love to walk through; a special tree with which we have a relationship and watch through the seasons; we might address the impact of tree loss on the forests; or we could write about all that trees give us.
Kim, how I adore this poem! I love the idea of it driving out the spirits from the old year. “My goddess grows, silver bark shining in sunlight”…..I can SEE her! A truly lovely poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sherry. I was chatting to my goddess only this morning. 😊
LikeLike
You have a way with evocative words! Such as:
“her fungus-studded trunk
branched, twig-hands
pointing to the sky.”
A lovely poem, Kim!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Mary!
LikeLike
The birch and the winter moon are magic. (K)
LikeLike
“pioneers,
trees of beginnings,
the first in the Ogham alphabet.”….These lines gave me goosebumps. It’s time, before time as it were. I also love how your tree greets you. Beautiful, Kim.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Sunama. My tree and I greet each other every day.
LikeLike
This is stunning from start to finish. What an incredible tribute.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you kindly, Shawna!
LikeLike
Kim,
you have so magically described your solver birch tree, that I could see it appear before my eyes.
A beautiful poetic painting…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Eileen!
LikeLike
“birch twigs drive out spirits
of the old year,
and here,
at the end of the garden, my goddess grows” and this is how history meets the present, with a comma, with a walk, with a story. Brilliant!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your appreciation is much appreciated, Susan!
LikeLike
Birch trees are so uniquely beautiful. 🥰
LikeLiked by 1 person
Indeed they are! ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
So many beautiful, descriptive lines. Trees are such gifts.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Susie!
LikeLike