Fern-Leafed Beech - Moyra Caldecott
This tree listened
when my husband died.
I leaned my head
against its trunk
and cried.
No words passed,
but I took its strength
and knew
that life at last
secretly transforms
until what is seen
becomes unseen,
and what has been
is still to be.
A friend of my mother's pointed out that the Woodland Trust Facebook site had published this a few years ago. They didn't get my permission, so I feel entitled to post it here.
This tree listened
when my husband died.
I leaned my head
against its trunk
and cried.
No words passed,
but I took its strength
and knew
that life at last
secretly transforms
until what is seen
becomes unseen,
and what has been
is still to be.
A friend of my mother's pointed out that the Woodland Trust Facebook site had published this a few years ago. They didn't get my permission, so I feel entitled to post it here.