I sat in the presence of a tree today
to lean in, to listen to
what it has to say.
To draw from its lines a story of the tree
with pen and brush in hand,
my sketchbook on my knee.
It offered me a leaf, with limb bent low,
and dindled and quivered
glad for me to know.
It drew itself up tall, proud against the sky.
Then settled for the portrait
breathing out a sigh.
My lines caress its roots, mark each scar around the trunk.
Then out on limby ledges,
each a mystery to debunk.
I hear the breeze of ages past, dance from leaf to leaf.
My pen records the music
on a bark-made sheaf.
I hope you get to sit in the presence of a tree today!
(The above is today’s drawing for #inktober!)