Poetry: The Trees Grow Out of the Air

The Trees Grow Out of the Air

A Broken Sonnet

 

The old contented gentlemen will say

That of the mighty tree; it grows from root

And over years of nurturing it may

Grow tall and broad from this established foot.

On this they will repose and gently sigh

When young men dare to dream of love so high.

 

How little they know of true love shared,

For no tree ever grew out of the ground;

They grow out of the air.

 

They spin themselves with carbon from the breeze.

A frozen wisp of crystallized sunlight,

Transformed by way of softly swaying leaves.

Their roots draw mother’s humid breath to height,

So that within and out she whispers clear

A rustling song the old man cannot hear.

 

Perhaps my sadness is of this,

That love concealed a secret never found

Until I felt your kiss.

 

One can’t unknow the secret once it’s shared;

Remember how it was

How wonderful it was

When we were free;

Two gossamer souls of sunlight and air.

Ben Tomkins
Ben Tomkins is a violinist, teacher, journalist and critically acclaimed composer currently living in Denver, Colorado. He hates stupidity and generally believes that the volume of one’s voice is inversely proportional to one’s knowledge of an issue. Reach Ben Tomkins at BenTomkins@DaytonCityPaper.com.

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