The Tree and Me

“At night I dream that you and I are two plants

that grew together, roots entwined,

and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth,

since we are made of earth and rain.” 

― Pablo Neruda, Regalo de un Poeta

I sat one day staring at an old tree
far off on a distant horizon
As I meditated on its life how it came to be,
A miracle occurred

I became the tree and the tree became me
As my limbs grew heavy with body wed to sod,
and tender roots began to spread deep into earth,
I felt at peace with all

Soon I began to sprout pale emerald leaves
when cooling rains of a hot summer storm
came sweeping in with no warning
And left my heart tree sated

Caressed by a nascent breeze
it tickled behind my knobby knees
the wind sang a song through rustling leaves
As I danced to nature’s music

Kissed by a warm golden sun
which inspired my limbs to grow
while held within its loving arms
The kiss breathed life into my soul

A miracle occurred
I felt at peace with all
And left my heart tree sated
As I danced to nature’s music
The kiss breathed life into my soul

©2020 Linda Lee Lyberg

Written for The Sunday Muse #121

Earthweal Open Link Weekend # 32

Linda Lee Lyberg is a wife, mother, artist, published poet and author. She resides in Mesa, AZ with her husband Pete (aka The Big Viking) of 24 years, and her dog, Ricky Bobby. Linda writes various forms of poetry, as well as short stories. You can read more of her works at:
and purchase anthologies containing her work here: Amazon Author Page

27 Comments on “The Tree and Me

  1. Oh, I love this poem, Linda. I adore the connection between nature and humanity. It indicates the balance between a spiritual notion of life and death; it’s not just those two alone, there’s so much more in-between. Beautiful piece. I always enjoy your work!

    Liked by 2 people

  2. What a wonderful image..the beauty of becoming a tree. There’s a spiritual feeling to this that feeds my soul.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Beautiful words. I have always had a fascination with trees, wishing somehow they could tell the story of all they’ve seen since they were a seedling. I was particularly mesmerized by the ancient moss-hung oaks of the south. Oh, if only they could talk!

    Liked by 1 person

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