deepundergroundpoetry.com

Regenerative

There is an old bench at the edge of an incline
that I take lunch on. It splinters sometimes, leaving
a sliver of newer wood visible beneath its faded skin.

Beyond that is a young tree split by lightening
during a recent storm. Its wound is still fresh,
pregnant with the soft pulp of newborn rings.

There is an old fence beyond the tree that separates
the edge of the ravine from a manicured green. In the
center is a middle-aged tree of unknown origin to me.

It's weak and recovering from a near-death experience
with kudzu. Its regenerating limbs are flourishing
and by Autumn will cover the earth.  

I sit on this decaying bench looking at broken, old,
and recovering things; I see their inner grace despite
age, scars, and years of open experience.

I can't see the beauty of what they were initially,
only what they are this moment. And, assuredly
will be under the kindness of years, like us.

~
Written by Ahavati
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 12 reading list entries 4
comments 10 reads 1089
Commenting Preference: 
The author is looking for friendly feedback.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 9:43am by mel44
SPEAKEASY
Today 9:24am by Too_hot69
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:56am by NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
SPEAKEASY
Today 4:15am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:33am by DCLXVI_1989
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349