Driftwood by Stephen Douglas
I used to be a tall strong pine tree
In Manawatu hills beyond thee
With branches wide and green;
Habitat for wild birds and bees,
A shelter to wondering Kiwi
Calling place for Morpork and Tui,
From which plenty could be seen.
Pine cones, the measure of my serene
And fertile place; as I grew by degree
Not hindered by some human decree,
Nestled in the forested hills you see.
I grew from a wild jubilant seed
Carried by a special autumn breeze
That landed me right side up, for no fee.
You may find it too difficult to believe
What you’ve read (heard) is what I used to be
Now I am driftwood parked by the sea.
But if you be willing; close an eye
Look to the top of the hill (the key
Is to imagine) a pine, frail and wee
Clinging with young roots, all three
To moistened rock and soil, tee-
Ter-ing between ‘let go or grow’, the
Spot for true emotional topography.
But I did it! . . I held on to being me,
Now I’m driftwood for photography!
Waitaere Beach, Levin, New Zealand
© stephen c douglas, 23/02/2008