Natures Tree of Love

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Love...

Submitted: August 30, 2014

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Submitted: August 30, 2014

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Natures Tree of Love
by B. Garth Steinhagen

ON THIS DAY, a simile to the first day we met, I pause, embrace through our eyes, a simplicity of a connected limb to life upwardly diagonal. For our love, a place told in silent split was grown from the earth in a wink of a moment.

Life for us, had climbed the tallest Sequoia sempervirens, desired the scent of Lady Aphrodite and pondered in the forest of Mount Olympus. For these loves', were spiral branches, intertwined by other love's, but not the connectedness which reaches upwards to the clouds, a high of all heights. Heavenly love, the blue skies of today and all days, our unity is one of gentle breezes, sounding a terrestrial chorus, swaying boughs and twigs. For these gentle winds flutter leaves to dust away our past tears with breathless exasperation of our heart that livens and exudes sweet gum to our sensitivity. We eye beauty, the thinner leaves that glisten with dew of droplets hang, an aroma of once fragrant bloom that reassures each branch in circumference a creation of importance that denies erosion, propagates enhancement of natural landscapes and inspires a spirit that shall be cherished.  Our woody structure is growing reaching to a place that is so colorful with sights of infinite horizon, a nostalgic view of life to eternity by permission for love to endure.

And with exquisiteness, "Nature" herself has allowed our planted seeds, to leave our sturdy trunk, the circle, in lands and places. Life at times has poured on this soil, an invitation to wash away any life that might blossom. But buds on branches do bloom by an open acknowledgement to life everywhere, the reawaken gift of hope. They say, our love is trial to truth that no plant can end, no seed will die and every sunset is birth, another sunrise of new germination of purposeful intention, the cover to old underbrush. To love is that greenery, a sprig sprouted to feel alive. For life, each step moves branch to branch a litany test of invocation to unconditional love building to a mysterious modification of transparency. It lives not for a day, not for tomorrow but now a lustrous ray bent towards the sun forever...

To the eye, I see,
With golden sunrise autumn renews,
Touch the place, sway me,
Breathless be my muse,

And depth crevice lighted and tethered,
Art as the love ray's paint,
For you are beautiful leaves of floated feather,
One of a lovely Sacred Saint

My living "poetry", concentric layers is the soft curve of nature's wooden ladder weathered with annual rings. Its girth of outward movement, the markings upon the central pillar, that which shows growth of love shared, creases my face with years of love counted. The expanse of time upon me, by you, nurtured the sounds of water trickling by showering my imagination with a nourishing love, nutrients, swelling the solid oak, a plateau stretching my aurora character. Sometimes wilted, dreaming of rain absent of freshness and tenderness, you observed my bark ignoring ripples of roughness while enlivening my core with a pure liquid of honest love, a surrounding shade of love while humming singing like birds within open arms of nature's tree of love, a love called...

"grace"
 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2019 B Garth Steinhagen. All rights reserved.

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