Poetry

The Tree and The Feather 

Deep roots seeded in familiar ground,

Knowing the place called home.

Just like a feather that flies in the wind, 

Going to places unknown.

The push and the pull of the cool open sea, 

Lapping against battered land.

Legglessly gliding and leaving its trace,

a soft subtle ghost in the sand. 

Lightning bolts thrashing and slashing a tree,

Ripping the bark from her limb.

LumberJack hacking by swinging his axe,

Leaving his mark on her skin.

The calm breeze turns angry the bright sky goes dark 

A feather swept up by the storm

He’s tossed and he’s tumbled, his soft barbs all crumbled 

His sweet care free days are no more. 

And there in the darkness where colors look bleak,

and hope is a thing of the past

The tree and the Feather had weathered the weather

and found one another at last 

The brightest of blues returned to the heavens, 

The sun found its place in the sky.

The dark clouds receded and pain was defeated

With feather and tree side by side.

Written By Abigail Crossen