An Ode to the Telford Rest Area Tree

An Ode to the Telford Rest Area Tree

A pause in life’s journey

The little tree created a place within my soul to hold the hurt.

An Ode to the Telford Rest Area Tree

Barely there it stood:

A bit scrawny— here a limb, there a limb

yet many small leaves fluttering in the breeze

As if nature planted it just there, on a whim.

A lovely deep green pleasantly inviting all 

When the afternoon sun blazes spots

Of heat waves on the concrete parking lot

Brown grass, mowed, baking in the heat: we stop.

Still, the tree reaches out with branches, 

stretching out far with its finger tips

To share every bit of shade it possibly can

A welcome respite for the traveler on trips.

The wind whistles through the branches

The leaves flick together releasing wind’s energy

A brown dragonfly’s wings whirl past your ear, 

darting along on the waves of wind’s synergy.

Cars murmur briefly, speeding by

A meadow lark song rings crisp near its top

A yellow-bellied marmot chirps his warning

For each traveler’s step on the lot’s grassy plot.

Between the worries of the where I was

and relief of where I’ll be

The little tree and its shade pulls me to calm, 

a hug from a friend always there with me:

A warm acceptance of what is, 

and a cooling of the grief

With no words, just being there, 

Consistent relief—

A companion of support, giving hope

Standing strong in its own adversity 

To say, you too can keep going,

Through the day’s uncertainty.

That first day when heat 

our air conditioner overcame

and we stopped, stretching our legs 

in a walk for relief to reclaim

Touching the tops of the waving prairie grasses

Amid darting insects beneath the searing sun

Discovering the welcome shade of the little tree 

Stretching its shade to shelter all, everyone.

Growing strong in the arid shrub-steppe 

Offering its solace to those on its highway

In the middle of a drive from here to there

Its stark silhouette, a welcome: “this way!”

It stood leafless that March amid melting ice,

Stark dark brown trunk against the cold grey sky

Still its limbs reached out, “I’m still here.”

And I wondered, “Are you there, holding the sky?”

And on the tips of the branches, small buds of green

Called, “I’ll be here for you tomorrow, too,

Holding the sky, No, I won’t let it fall; I’ll stand tall”

And I in my sorrow sighed, “I so thank you.”

And now, little tree, you’re cut: just a stump-

Gone from your post, your strength and your hope;

Without the silhouette of that courageous tree,

How many now miss its message to cope?

An emptiness of sorrow surges in my heart

A hole that grows each time the tree I can’t see,

Sealing in the truth of loss that holds my heart

A truth of the grief healed by the sight of that tree.

In my mind I’ll remember the strength of its welcome

I’ll maintain the memories, let them mend all that was then 

And like the little tree, let the now render tomorrow

Holding the hurt in the grateful space of its remembered, hopeful vision.

Sheri Edwards  

102321   29636521  

Poetry/Photography

https://whatelse.edublogs.org/2021/10/23/ode-to-telford-rest-area-tree-writeout/

https://askwhatelse.blog/2021/10/23/day-590-an-ode/

Creating a place within my soul to hold the hurt.

Now gone.

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