Ancient Trees without Freud
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
The longest living trees don’t daydream while
They live for several thousand years in drought.
This lack of dreams might mean that pines exile
The threat of nightmares. Bristlecones don’t pout
Or wilt in driest sandy soil. They just
Get on with living slower than the growth
Of breaks between the continents that thrust
Apart sehr slowly, slower than a sloth
Asleep, than plate tectonics push apart.
Yes, paucity of dreams in roots is so
That they avoid the earthquakes of upstart
Alpträume. This is why their hearts are slow.
If you and I were wise, we too would wait
Without these dreams. But such is not our fate.
~ Phillip Whidden