Growing up in hurricane-prone areas, you learn that even the most solid parts of your world – like the giant oak trees in your yard, aren’t immune to change. These trees aren’t just scenery; they become part of your everyday life, almost like living structures you grow up alongside. But when the storms come, even the mightiest can fall.
Trees that stood tall for generations can come down in a matter of hours. The silence that follows is jarring; until the chainsaws start. That sound, sharp and mechanical, offends the senses, yet it’s part of the process. In real life, these fallen giants often end up at the dump. Their story ends in a landfill.
But in this poem, I imagined a different ending, one where the oak lives on in another form. This is for the trees we grew up with, and the silence they leave behind.
The Standing Tree
An oak stands
proudly in the garden
overtaking nearby trees
on display is
a story of
endurance
Nesting families call
the oak home
branches reach out
wide and far
providing livable
space
Playing children
climb
through the branches
to hang on limbs
Rustled leaves dance
in a strong
summer wind
while singing a
haunting song
Fierce storms direct
the orchestra, forcing
the song
to Crescendo
while the oak performs
part of the
chaotic melody
Roots anchored
in rain soaked land
slowly loosen their grip
allowing it to
sway in harmony
The continued dance with
wind whipping, swirling, and
pounding rain
encourage the
mighty tree
to the ground
Immense in size
the treetop
blankets the soil
as pools of rain
create muddy puddles
where the roots
once hung on
so tightly
Nesting birds
jolted to the ground
find their way
and fly away
Calmness claims
the weather as the
storm moves
to the east
allowing the sun
to break through
The trunk and branches
no longer sway
no longer whistle
with
the wind
The Fallen Tree
Fortissimo, takes
center stage as
chainsaws follow
the conductor
Cold metal sears through
the oak trunk
transforming the
mighty tree
to lumber
The oak once
towered
above them
all
The Transformation
Unforgiving sounds
overwhelm the day
while the sight of
the lonesome oak
hit home
Conflicting feelings
of the fallen oak
as an earthy scent
speaks to the soul
The tree, now lumber
lives on in
many sizes
and
humbling pieces
Seasons marked off
like dates on a calendar
while the wood transformed
cured, dry and ready
for a new life
Calloused hands
feel its strength
and find beauty in
distinctive knots
A piece of art
takes shape
but, the
living oak tree
will never return
Children will never again
swing from
the branches
Winds will never again whistle
through its branches,
It has been silenced
Poems to Share 