Cherry Tree Seer

🌳 🍒 🍒 🌳

How often did he climb

to sit in his tree ‘balcony’

amidst branches bare or leaved

as cherries grew, wild and free

Beneath the Mason Dixon Line we called

wild, green, then red to black cherry fame

but when he later moved to New England

chokecherry tree was it’s Yankee name

The tree was small, but branched

into a triangle shape towards the fields

there he built is plank “tree-house”

for the view that it did with grace yield

He was higher than the shed below

once it had been a corral for cow or horse

partly a garage it now was became his fun

where an art studio, afresh was it’s course

there he with his friend young Bob drew

cartoons that no one it seemed but they read

maybe once or twice a reading did preform

in the tree triange stage above their head

across the fields, the meadows

the farmer planted various crops

so each year the view to the woods

a dance with growing bottom to top

So lovely was it looking across fields

corn, soybeans, peas or wheat as it grew

toward the soldier standing woods a mile away

flocks of birds sang, cawed, frolicked flew

🐦

above those changing fields to the trees

some nesting in his little leaf-topped bower

up in that lovely childhood plank refuge

sitting watching, sometimes by the hour

A certain knowledge deep bloomed, leafing

within his viewing eyes, quiet mind and heart

like the effervescent field of rest and growth

love of natural life to him never ever depart

🌳 🍒 🍒 🌳

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