A Tree Lined Palette

No, not dawn, but on the horizon

My tree lined palette shares a brilliancy

Even in the eve of her awakening

And the dawn of her rest

The moon is not illuminating

But I still see her branches, no my branches

Those sculptured moments that only a tree can shape

Those graceful movements that only a tree can flow with

As they sway with the wind

A panorama in the light of the moon

Casting her mystical and enchanted

Capacity to mold the world

Capturing her hold on me and mankind

If only we see

If only we feel

If only we recognize

That one branch does not make a tree

For there is still the trunk

That  holds her strong

As she remembers

That to shape the world

Is not from something that cannot be broken.

 

Celestine McMullen Allen

Copyright 2011

 

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