Poetry

The Sovereign

Beloved tree, alone
in your dignified repose,
you tower in the distance with
graceful persistence. Patient through
rain or sun still standing when the day is done
beneath natal stars that bloom like springtime flowers
or loitering gloom that winter brings and summer eves when
sparrows sing. Deeply rooted, older, bolder, veins burn within
the blood of the seasons and rings bear age yet unresigned while
holding the robin’s nest cradled in your limbs. Whispering breeze,
you quiver to tell your woe and when air throbs with wings, you shed
your tears in leaves that so lavishly dost pour. My humbling tyrant,
lifting your arms high, you filter amber sunshine through your
branches while an eagle gives you respectful downward
winks from the heaven above. Upon the soil of truth
and right, your deep foundations lay. Sentry,
here your duties lie wherein you
live and quietly die. To the
earth, you give your
roots. To the sky,
your air. To
me, shelter
whether my
heart is
with hope
or sorrow
tremble.
I, who
in your
shadow
sit as
twilight
nears, I
listen to
thee. You are
the sovereign and
I, the apostle. Please
carve your name upon me.

© Literary Remains

44 thoughts on “The Sovereign”

  1. Thank you for this growing, breathing poem. What software do you use to produce the desired effect ? I have a spiral poem that a friend put into form but since I have modified certain words. So all I have is my penned/drawn version.

    Liked by 1 person

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