The Maple Tree

Life was a maple tree and he was the nymph who lived there, a solitary man of poetic beauty. He gave birth to vibrant maple colors, within each leaf’s vein, etching visions of the world around him. From his great height, his interpretations of daily life were found layered in bark. The syrup that poured in steady streams was sweet from his poetic kiss, for the nymph loved his life on the maple.

golden leaf
solo journey
down life’s river

One day, the nymph learned that the maple tree was not truly his. It belonged to a higher force, which he had no control over. His grief was unbearable, for it was all he knew—the world around him, his kingdom. What was he to do? Where to go? The atmosphere around the maple was grave, for it had questions of its own. How would it survive without his nurturing poetic heart?

on rough bark
poetry and music
from his soul

The nymph began his packing with sorrow in his heart. Every leaf unturned to find a verse or a tear embellished by his aura. His imprint would last for eons, yet he would never know. Destiny played her game of wheel of fortune, but his odds of luck weren’t clear. He continued to find beauty in spite of the sadness.

in a tear~
crystal stars
his poetry

One day, as he looked around for another tree call home, he saw a fairy playing in a clear patch within a dandelion field, spring rain her laughter. How could she be happy when the world and moon has collided? He watched her, blowing on the fuzzy head of a dandelion and grabbing a winged seed, laughing as it gave her a short ride. Suddenly he realized that his world wasn’t so limited. He stood by a dandelion with possessions ready, waiting for a strong zephyr to take him exciting places, outside his maple-tinted world.

waiting
unborn poems
spawned by hope