Salutations, dear friends!
As I age, I find myself gravitating toward things that endure. I suppose, in part, because my own mortality has become more fathomable.
And whilst I swipe Death’s cold-fingered grip off my shoulder for yet another day, I choose to find contentment in enduring things like love, beauty, and loyalty.
This poem seeks to explore the gratitude found there.
I hope your heart soars in the love story of these two trees… and perhaps finds those connections to appreciate just a wee bit more in your own life.
As always, please let me know your thoughts and feelings in the Comments Section below.
-PS Conway ☘️ ☘️ ☘️
☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️ ☘️
two trees stand on an island in a lake
since time immemorial they have shared
whispered adorations every night
under moonlight soft in her cool caress
in their seclusion, their love bloomed full
and graceful, like their bowers that towered
skyward, invocations of gratitude
to those same stars they had watched grow old
like their roots burrowed deep, fingers intwined
intimate and fine, secret and divine,
interleaved prayerful in their holy oaths
handfast and steadfast, bound in devotion
their souls stir to nightingale song, to know
ere long all forevers must have their end
one last full moon, one final star to fall
yet thankful for all they have seen and been…