Grandfather Spirit

Grandfather Spirit

Tall, Olden Spire,
Grandfather Spirit,
Towering over me as I plod,

Gracing my efforts with Dappled Shade
When the Sun beats down to scorch in blistering Tirade.

Protecting my languishing with Embracing Arms
When the Gales blow from the North to Twist and harm.

Singing in Sweet Mystery to ease my childlike fears
When hoarfrost Gathers and jagged ice falls and tears.

Living Master
Of Time, Resisting,
Watching, Silent, as I toil,

Spreading your Loving Boughs in Resplendent Hue,
Claim our seeking avarice before there are far too few,
Of You.

~Morgan~

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Breathtaking Photography by: Carlos Henrique Reinesch on Deviantart.com

34 Comments

  1. ah i hope there are never too few…love the reverence you give the trees in calling them grandfather…as a native american/first nation might….and the master of time….very cool response…

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  2. Oh! We must greet trees with gratitude.. rather our avarice shadows all. I loved the respect you duly bestowed to the wondrous trees. I also liked the rhymes and the exactness of verbs in this piece.

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    1. As it does me. I often watch and wonder what they’ve seen, who they’ve known, and what wisdom they could tell us if only we would listen.

      OI! thats another post LOL ๐Ÿ™‚

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  3. Nice. It occurred to me that I don’t see trees as grandfathers – or maybe I’ve just been looking at the ones in middle age like myself! It’s funny how many poets see them in human terms though, very interesting.

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    1. I may be unique, I see all that lives as spiritually alive in one form or another. Might be very middle eastern philosophical of me.
      Thank You for visiting ๐Ÿ™‚

      Blessings and Inspirations~

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