Thursday, May 4, 2017

I talk to the trees - and they listen to me.

Dr Abe V Rotor

"I think that I shall never see 
a poem lovely as a tree. xxx
poems are made by fools like me, 
             but only God can make a tree." Joyce Kilmer 

Narra in summer bloom 
When in bloom golden, only for a day or two;
confetti follows where the bees have gone, 
in every flower is born a new life, the embryo,
seed to a tree in another place and time.   

Mt Makiling, Laguna 

You bear the hardest wood - 
ebony in deep shiny black; 
your foes no less my kind 
feeling and love we lack.
Tierra Pura, Tandang Sora, QC

Sunrise, sunset, the ground is alive,
lilting children under your care 
that make up for your loneliness 
in a world with so little to share. 
Masinloc, Zambales

You were once doomed by the wind,
but benevolence saved you;
by your fruits and resting limbs,
sanctuary and playground, too.  

Mt Makiling, UPLB Laguna 

Black and white makes you bold and real
of your strangler's reputation,
climbing on your host tree to the sky,
a piece of mystery of creation.
Burgos, La Union 

Tree house I see built on your limbs
has stolen your view on the scene, 
the breeze in your leaves hushed away,  
a living monument unseen. 
Cebu City

Embroidered leaves by the bagworm,
turning to crimson and fall;
mutual indeed is host and tenant,
nature and creatures all. 
Kaohsiung, Taiwan 

Re-encarnation - this elephant tree had been
once roaming around in band;
threatened, endangered and gone, 
what would it become the next time around? 
Lagro QC

Whoever felled this old balete tree,
drove the deities away; 
and the spirit of the tree shall not rest,
no prayer can repay. 
UST Manila 

Shadow of death I see across the lawn,
save the sun all mourning;
haunting the playground empty and quiet,
save a dead tree walking. 
Ateneo de Manila University QC

to the conscious passerby,
in the morning holy, 
in the evening scary, 
a veil to laugh or to cry.  
St Paul University QC

Young devil tree, but you aren't;
your eyes but holes to your heart;
your arm raised to praise, to call
a friend, such is nature's art.
Tagbilaran, Bohol

Saplings race to meet the sun,
lanky to posts they shall become;
sans branches but bole and round
soon fall to the ax one by one.   
Agoo, La Union 

Over laden, if all these fruits,
a burst of a lifetime -
young to die like a mother 

cut in her prime.  

UST Manila 

Living cradle to while away the time,
to catch up with many a lost sleep;
watch out, a nap gone over the clime.
 where time and opportunity slip. 


Pendants you wear in the night, 
blinking with the chilly air,
bring tidings beyond your shade,
to far places poor and fair. ~



I think that I shall never see 
A poem lovely as a tree. 

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest 
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast; 

A tree that looks at God all day, 
And lifts her leafy arms to pray; 

A tree that may in Summer wear 
A nest of robins in her hair; 

Upon whose bosom snow has lain; 
Who intimately lives with rain. 

Poems are made by fools like me, 
But only God can make a tree.

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