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The Great Elm

I

Our eyes once lingered on the ancient tree
Traced to the founders of this place
Who cleared the land for farms and cemeteries,
But spared the giant elm, older than memory,
And made of it the icon of our public space.

That towering mountain of limbs and foliage!
It could be seen as a beacon in all the valley,
Majestic in every season! Every knot in the bark,
Every root that bulged through the mossy soil
Was known in its estate in the center of town.

Here we spent our Maydays with our newborns,
Playing in the shade of the afternoon sun.
Here we held our parades and moonlit fireworks,
Here we gathered for a death to mourn,
Here we found first love with lips and tongues-

There is a vengeance that exists as clouds collide!
How we wept, all of us, along with the homeless birds,
How the news was spread like fire in the landscape
That a chainsaw of light had ripped through the trunk
And split it to the core, and all fell asunder to the ground.

We gathered, hand in hand, all held another tight,
As neighbors came in fellowship and joined the crowd;
We stood amazed at the power of nature’s gods
And the profoundness of what should never die
Lying in pieces under the open sky above.

With the fading thunder and sorrowful birds
There we surrendered to a moment of true silence;
Surrounding the dismembered monument
Hand in hand we felt the ancient soul of the tree
Rise with the smell of sap and the smoldering leaves.

II

What debate was held, what prizes to win,
To fill the empty hole in our common domain!
The plans from the architects and artisans
Were posted in the daily papers, argued at the tavern;
Installations of arches with colored lights,
Fantastic sculptures of glass, Roman fountains,
Sphinxes made of iron, kaleidoscopic neon palms-
None fit the mood of the grieving town.

But it was a stranger got off the bus one day,
A pale and dusty drifter, had a beer at Jimmy’s,
Barely stayed an hour, and told the bartender-
“Take the wood that remains, the body of the tree
To conceive the tallest turret ever to be seen,
An obelisk of hope, like a lighthouse on the land.”
He said, then disappeared from our history,
Never to claim his prize or our blessings.

So it came to pass, we built the tower with its kindling,
And it stands like a lightning rod to defy the storms;
A destination for tourists who crave miraculous things,
Who climb the spiral stairs which fill the hallow core
To the tip of heaven where all the valley can be seen.
It is said to be visited by spirits of the founders,
And every sound made within its scented vaults
Has a reverberating echo heard for miles around.

Last few words: 
Inspired by a string quartet by Alan Hovhaness, "The Ancient Tree", an homage to a giant Elm tree struck by lightening.
Editing stage: 

Comments

Rough draft?? I felt I was reading a poem from an anthology of famous poems; It seemed so polished to me.

What I say next is totally subjective, and has no bearing on the objective superlativeness of your poem.
I was so entranced by the visual and emotional delivery of part one I found myself reluctant to read part two. This has never happened to me before.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

The poem is 3 days old, but did go through the rigors of a writers workshop and revised a few times.
These workshops are invaluable to us poets, I hope you and all have one near, to have several other poets discuss your poem with you and really analyze.
I hope the second part of the poem offered some resolution.
Thank you for reading!

..

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

you are now on
the poetic
neo hierarchy

I love your poem.
I can see your style here clearly and I really like it.
The main reason is that I here a good rhythm.
It is not repetitive but clearly heard and rewarding at the end of each stanza.

I like the story and I see images clearly.
They are balanced by the length of the poem.
It doesn't feel long to me at all and I am very unpatient reader.
I smell the burning bark, I feel the wind on the top of the tower. My spirit joins the others and visits both places the tree and the tower at once. Your poem is a bridge between the two realities.
All and all this is my favorite poem among yours.

IRiz

"I smell the burning bark, I feel the wind on the top of the tower. My spirit joins the others and visits both places the tree and the tower at once. Your poem is a bridge between the two realities."

thanks Iriz for putting my thoughts into words, a poem to read over and over.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

Hahaha,not fair, next time it will be your turn!

IRiz

"there is a vengeance that exists as clouds collide!" beautiful story. I like how the tree struck by lightening was turned into a lightening rod. it is a story of how we deal with loss, how creativity often comes from some sorrow or absence in our lives. we fill the space with something new, perhaps with the remains of the very thing we lost. some of my thoughts on the poem. I agree, the imagery is palpable. it's also cool how strangers ("be kind to strangers. by so doing, some have entertained angels.") can be an important part of this remaking and remembering process. you've created a community (and one that's open to strangers) that I would want to be a part of.

You certainly got the intent of the poem. As an allegory with a symbol larger than myself I have to approach it with humility.
Thanks for your comment!
...

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment

"I was so entranced by the visual and emotional delivery of part one I found myself reluctant to read part two. This has never happened to me before."

I was reading your poem today, and it came to me the reason for my reaction: (and remember, this is purely subjective)

"The Great Elm" is a universal symbol. and there was universality in the giving of the tree's history. The stories of its history speaks of spiritual interactions with the tree. And the people could be any people, universal symbols.
And because the spiritual is free to grow out into the factual, my imagination could roamed free at the particular interpretations.

and now I realize my reluctance to the second stanza, it took me to a whole other atmosphere, it became particular, temporal, and my spirit did not want to leave the universality it roamed in.

.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

and what an interesting comment and reading of the poem you had. And I'm so glad i was able to get you engaged in the whole story, an allegory, and one of hope.
Peace to you too!
..

Eumolpus
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
ee cummings

author comment
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