Tree Soul Poem by Shirley Harrison
Tree Soul
As I reflect on what a tree means to me
I reflect on its leaves
and how they can dance in the soft wind
and blow away with a force
changing colour with each magnificent season
and then die so gracefully
I reflect on how it's roots are alive underground
moist soil and pitch black darkness
keeping them in continuous rebirth of beauty
until the day they themselves lose their soul.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/31/2025 4:18:22 PM # 1.0.0
