Bark Of Broken Promises
The tree’s scars from human betrayal
In the dawn of days, where light first kissed the green,
A tree stood tall, a sentinel of peace,
Its branches stretched to sky in silent prayer,
Leaves whispered secrets to the morning breeze.
With roots deep in earth’s embrace, it felt the pulse
Of life’s sweet dance, where every breath was shared.
It cast a sheltering shade, a soothing balm
For weary souls who wandered, seeking rest.
Children climbed its limbs, laughter entwined with bark,
Their dreams hung like ornaments from sturdy boughs.
In spring, the tree bloomed, a riot of color,
Each petal a promise, each blossom a gift.
But time, the unseen thief, crept in with stealth,
And humans, once grateful, grew distant, cold.
They carved their names, etched scars upon its skin,
Each cut a whisper of betrayal’s sting.
The tree, once joyous, now shivered in the breeze,
Its leaves a symphony of mournful sighs.
Axe-blades bit deep, their iron teeth a cruel joke,
Turning its strength into sorrow, limb by limb.
Oh, how it gave, with sap and shade, yet still,
The hands that took showed no tender grace.
Its heartwood cracked, the rings within revealed
The silent story of its aching soul.
Yet even in its pain, it stood, steadfast,
A monument to nature’s patient grief.
Birdsong now a dirge, the rustle of leaves
A melancholic melody of loss.
No longer did it thrive in joyous green,
But bore the weight of human disregard.
Each scar, a testament to promises broken,
Each wound, a silent cry for empathy.
Now, in the twilight of its days, it stands,
A ghostly figure against the setting sun.
Its bark, a tapestry of tears and time,
Tells tales of what was given, what was lost.
And so, it whispers to the wind, to you,
A plea to honor what remains, to heal.
For in the bark of broken promises,
Lies the heart of a world too often betrayed.
Listen, it begs, to the song of the leaves,
Feel the weight of the wind, the sorrow it weaves.
And remember the tree, who gave all it had,
Its scars a reminder of the trust we once had.
Author’s Note:
The inspiration for the poem struck as I watched the fall of my favorite tree, a silent bystander to this moving scene. Its destruction provoked a certain feeling of sadness to me. I was not able to save it, yet its vanishing leaves a vacuum to me.
Our difficult relationship with Mother Nature, participating in deforestation, pollution and climate change, can be seen in the plight of her most precious warriors—trees. This poem mourns a lost tree and appeals to the reader: please look after them. Keep these living organisms which contribute to our lives in silence. Let’s reform fill their sacrifices with power, build for them a whole new life.
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