the sleeping tree

the ground rested and was dressed
by a warm orange light
that sprayed its wishes
over and into the land.

these were not harsh shadows cast
more liquid, more bled edges,
no straight lines
to draw the eye.

and it was warm,
so warm,
the blankets had become piled up
in the room.

as i drew in the morning,
pulled open the shuttering,
my eye was drawn
to the sleeping tree.

it brought tears to recall
this tree was a gift,
given to me,
and in its roots i had stowed
my beliefs.

the soft earth keeps its secrets.

tied up in the fibres
i kept a key
and one day I will dig it
and will one day give it away.

but today it is just blossoming
and i think it will fruit this year.

the sleeping tree

uncleblack

Joined February 2010

  • Artist
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Artwork Comments

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  • © Karin Taylor
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