The Tree of Life and Love

***inspired by a stump with a scar on it... went past it while biking (I think it was on a somewhat rainy day?). Another from my archives***

I am a part of Everest’s steps,
The blizzard forming more of me.
A chunk of me could drown Earth’s steps,
Soon, I will rule and walk round free.

I stand erect on Flanders Field.
The peaceful wind erode my cross,
A memorable slab on Flanders Field,
So stuck, so clean, but what a loss.

I sit as sediments on a land,
The grass protruding through my skin,
And mammals kicking me through land,
Do not they think that it is sin?

I cover grounds across terrains,
I build on top of self with self,
‘Til break, I fall to all terrains,
Then light to shatter grounded shelf.




I stood on top of Everest’s steps,
The blizzard blowing on my head,
Was brought about by snowman’s steps.
He saw me dying on my bed.

I stood beside my Flanders Field,
My crested reds encircled grass.
The tears of misery splashed my field,
Artillery locking on my mass.

I knelt before the knees of lions;
They hid behind my safety blades.
They leapt; the ox was caught by lions.
No pity; nature, lost in raid.

I saw barbarous sky diffused.
Against my twigs, through networked roots,
My birds confused, my squirrels diffused,
The special spot became black soot.




I stood on top of Everest’s steps,
The blizzard howling through my ears,
Was brought about by Heaven’s wish,
Turned back, stared, caught by brownish claws.

I stood on top of Flanders Field,
My knees collapsed and eyes o’erfilled.
Remembrance! Please respect the Field
For spirits—corpses dead: o’erkilled.

I trotted through some golden swords,
Was fooled by ears that told me silence,
Was ambushed, killed with natural swords.
As ignorant ghost, I swore for vengeance.

I sensed the sky’s immediate lapse,
Which shocked my soul of song and fear.
I had no choice but jump and lapse,
So close I thought that death was near.




I stood above Mount Everest’s steps,
Forever smiling down at them.
A storm, big fall, mistaken step,
For me to dictate life and men.

I napped below the crusted knees,
My spooky shade destroyed my strife.
Now I can get up from my knees,
And not regret a wasted life.

I stood beside my son’s good soul,
Protecting him from any harm.
But witnessed death of second soul,
His lack of feelings lost his charm.

I saw the course of dying tree,
I granted it a mercy death,
But things went wrong around the tree.
I closed my eyes and sighed a breath.




I feed on nothing.
I live on nothing.
I love nothing.
I hate nothing.
I am not dead.
I am around.
I am all Is.
I am nature.
I am peace.
I am war.
I give everything.
Nothing gives me back.
I am all.
All am I.

On me, there exists The Stumped Arc,
That of the tree, the man, and God.