The Art of Art

Cherry

By Silver Spun Sand

Tue, 05 Apr 2016
  • 2256 reads
6 comments
 
At school they made us paint a picture
of a tree...one in our road...in our garden...
in the park.
 
“Become that tree,” Miss said. 
 
As I recall, I was uninspired, but I tried,
real hard.  Hugged it...stroked it –
even talked to it...to no avail.
 
People stared, thought I was balmy...
off my trolley.  What the hell was the point?
A tree, is a tree, is just a frigging tree!
 
In the shadow-lands of now, more than
fifty years on I stand beneath that very tree,
with its green, wet smell.
 
Marvel at the contours of its bark – how
it had grown.  The noble way it had weathered – 
gathered lichen, ivy and moss; 
 
home to as many insects and birds
as feathery tufts on dandelion clocks...and got 
an answer to the question I’d asked myself
a lifetime ago. 
Certificate PG
Poem
Silver Spun Sand Poems
Philosophy
Nature

Comments

Submitted by Rhiannonw on

Maybe if you were trying to inspire young artists and drew them in to look at that detail of the tree, and talked of the changes you'd observed over the years, maybe it would get them interested in drawing the whole with more understanding. Better than just being told to 'become a tree' anyway! Rhiannon

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Hindsight, an incredible thing, Rhiannonsmiley

Many thanks.

Tina

 

Submitted by Bee on

If only we could know that a tree could still be there all those years later, but we just don't appreciate it at the time of youth. Lovely poem and thought provoking. 

Bee

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Thank you, Bee, and how right you are about that appreciation. If only...

Tina

 

Submitted by skinner_jennifer on

Hi Tina,

there's such a big gap between childhood and adulthood, how differently we see the world and everything in it. I like the way you point out how as a child the tree is just there, yet as an adult it becomes alive and has a soul.

I remember as a child our class going on nature rambles with the school teacher. We as children were never really aware of the beauty we saw around us when picking up leaves or bits of old wood and taking them back to the classroom to either draw or paint.  It's only like you say, when you look back as an adult that you realise how lucky you were to have had that opportunity to experience nature in all its beauty.

A significant poem indeed.

Jenny.

 

 

Submitted by Silver Spun Sand on

Many thanks to you, Jenny.  You have so very eloquently summed up the essence of this poem with your words,.  Great feedback, indeed,. 

Have a lovely Wednesdaysmiley

Tina