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Old Birch Tree

By J Ann Crowder

•From the genus Betula; (Betula alba), silver birch, or lady birch
 
 
I enjoy a quacking aspen, a larch, or giants of redwood forests, thick
 
Yet, none I enjoy more than a Betula alba’s timeless grace; shinning silver birch, oh lady birch, fair
 
’Twas nightly moons gleaming-away, against magic brushes glowing amid charcoal darkness, on youthful laughs
 
Serenity, amongst a scurry of night creatures, fearful
 
A beauty of ashen light pressing growing shadows, leaning against such blackness
 
Light, born of hope’s prisms
 
Toiled, aching for freedom, arising on midnight wishes and moon beamed glories, cradling fairy-kin; white wings of lace
 
’Twas magic, hiding in sacred sediment, birthed on light of moons; silvery lady birch, fair
 
Silvery fairy-kin, fly like darting stars
 
Thus, we wish upon
 
In dreams, blue and silvery, in magic sprung on hope’s endless stories
 
A moon’s dream, like silver doves fanning skies
 
Dreaming magic
 
Riding on God’s warm breath as morning rushes of lavender sail winds, perfuming
 
’Twas magic, hidden all around us and inside, in nightfall, in dreams, on fairy wings, in the skins of old birch trees; she, a lady fair, cradled in Mother Earth’s longing embrace
 
Her secrets sway, as silvery threads woven by her magic imprint on Earth and Sky, embodying sweet melodies and promenades, silent
 
May we listen, with each of our senses; with each perception’s sweet embrace

Whimsical, nature poem. Written June 25th, 2016.

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