Treasure Tree
In the meadow, tall and free,
I saw a gnarled treasure tree,
its bark held pockets of moss and more
gifts not found in town or store,
latticed lichen, bugs, each beak
of tiny birds nestled wing to cheek
And by its roots, as was its habit,
a snoozing, brown, bespeckled rabbit,
that promptly raised its sleeping head
and gazed without an ounce of dread,
then slowly hopped away from me,
to lounge at another side of the tree
Against the trunk I leaned full length,
the tree, it lent to me its strength,
and also several curious ants
(I had to brush them off my pants)
I sighed as I stood bark to cheek
and let down fall my heavy week
The week, it landed on springy grass
along with each alack, alas,
right next to a bunch of yellow flowers,
upon which bees hummed for hours,
about nectar, honey, sun and rain,
while I started to feel myself again
I stood in the sunshine at my leisure,
then thanked the tree for every treasure,
though it ran no errands, paid no bill,
had no obligations to fulfill,
simply by standing and being a tree
it gave peace and solace to more than me
Eliel Fionn 2/23/23