Many Growing Seasons, Before

28 Jan

I Have come to a tree that has fallen and decayed

Nurturing the forest floor, leaving me with this gift,

This piece of hardened wood,

With traces of legends and resemblance.


I stare into this piece of healed branch,

That has lost its self-

A knot that shares its parent’s history


Before broken off— had grown many faces

Now left as a petrified knot generations ago;

Embossed with stories of a future prince,

From twig— many growing seasons before.


(Many times, I have spent turning, staring, reading this tree knot I kicked up, on one of my walks through the Open Gate Farm, do give it some attention. Oh, and the other side is just as imaginatively interesting. (Photo by: R.K. Garon))


Posted by on January 28, 2017 in Poetry


Tags: , , , ,

20 responses to “Many Growing Seasons, Before

  1. ZQ

    February 4, 2017 at 4:44 pm

    Yes, and I pass them on as gifts.


  2. Nan Mykel

    February 4, 2017 at 3:54 pm

    So warm and perceptive! Do ou have a collection of finds?

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Gillena Cox

    January 31, 2017 at 9:06 am

    Monday WRites 94 is live. You are invited to link up

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Cressida

    January 30, 2017 at 10:18 am

    It is nature’s secret. It all means something.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Jae Rose

    January 30, 2017 at 7:21 am

    Perhaps many fallen things still hold life?

    Liked by 1 person

  6. 1sojournal

    January 29, 2017 at 9:14 pm

    I find that when I pick up knots of wood or an unusual stone, let them rest in the palm of my hand, they begin to speak, seeming to know that I will listen. Love your poem,


    Liked by 1 person

  7. Thotpurge

    January 29, 2017 at 7:42 pm

    It is a blessing to be able to find pure joy in nature….

    Liked by 1 person

  8. colleen@looseleafnotes

    January 29, 2017 at 7:31 pm

    Like a seed holding story or a fossil documenting life.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Susan

    January 29, 2017 at 6:06 pm

    And now the knot sitting beautifully in your life, reaches us through this poem extending its history and our wonder. Thank you kindly for your warm comment on my poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. Iris

    January 29, 2017 at 5:56 pm

    This is my favorite poem of the day. I love it, so much.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Myrna Rosa

    January 29, 2017 at 5:42 pm

    It’s as if you hold time in your hands. That knot really may have lots of stories for you.

    Liked by 1 person

  12. ZQ

    January 29, 2017 at 3:41 pm

    The back is but what you see has been carved in by nature


  13. Mary

    January 29, 2017 at 3:14 pm

    Love the details you worked into your poem.

    Liked by 1 person

  14. Magaly Guerrero

    January 29, 2017 at 2:51 pm

    I love old, lived things–antiques, driftwood–I always wonder where they’ve been, and if they remember… Then I look at my own hands, think of when they were small and unmarked, and I know that old, lived things remember.

    Liked by 1 person

  15. Julian

    January 29, 2017 at 1:19 pm

    I like the subject matter of your poem of which I enjoyed reading.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. C.C.

    January 29, 2017 at 1:11 pm

    Very interesting… it smooth to the touch? From the photo, it looks as though it might be.

    Liked by 1 person

  17. Björn Rudberg (brudberg)

    January 29, 2017 at 12:59 pm

    I admire the way you look for stories in nature’s own sculpting… wonderful

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Sanaa Rizvi

    January 29, 2017 at 12:49 pm

    This is soo captivating! Beautifully penned 😀

    Liked by 1 person

  19. Sherry Marr

    January 29, 2017 at 12:46 pm

    It looks like the ear of a gigantic tree sprite, LOL. I enjoyed your poem, and love the tree knot. It is amazing, the things that grow on trees.

    Liked by 1 person

  20. Gillena Cox

    January 29, 2017 at 10:56 am

    a hearty contemplation my friend

    Happy Sunday

    much love…

    Liked by 1 person


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