The above poem is an excerpt from my latest release ‘Timeless Echoes’ and I have shared it to thank my dearest blogger friend Lisa who has mentioned it in her review at GoodReads as her favorite poem from my book. Lisa has been one of my earliest friends and visited my blog when it was more like a ghost town. Her consistent support has put many smiles on my face. Sending you hugs of gratitude on the wings of poetry dear Lisa. Many thanks for reviewing my book.
Poetry challenge rules have always intimidated me but I would like to grab this golden opportunity of celebrating with Colleen whose weekly poetry challenge has accomplished 100th milestone and she has given a free choice of words to write a Tanka.
I had heard about the giant Redwoods but always thought that they must be just another kind of trees till I saw them! I was stunned at the feelings they could evoke. The first thought that came to my mind and kept reverberating all the time: “Seeing is believing.”
The moment I entered Redwoods Park, a strange exhilaration overpowered me. To add to my excitement was another nature lover, my daughter who had flown from east coast to spend a few days with us and was elated to accompany us. We chose to stay at Emerald Cabins, which are nestled right in the center of redwoods and the distance to Prairie Creek Redwoods State Park is just 24.5 miles.
Emerald Cabins
While driving toward Trinidad on Freeway 101, we stopped at Garberville for a quick snack and discovered the first delight of the day! Though I had done enough research online to keep in mind what to see, I didn’t come across this “Grandfather tree,” said to be “world famous” as it is 1800 years old. Its height is 265 feet and diameter is 24 feet.
Grandfather Tree
I won’t be able to describe the delight of watching these trees…seeing is believing, I kept repeating as I walked through the Redwoods. They are not like any other trees, they touch your heart. Surprisingly, They do!
I was mesmerised by their beauty. They can entrance you beyond imagination! As I stood in the midst of those trees, deep in the woods, an entirely different world encompassed me and slowly I seemed to merge into the environment. I felt time didn’t matter here!
While I stood and watched, trying to figure our my escalating emotions, my husband walked ahead and my research-minded daughter stood by each tree, spending umpteen moments, touching the soft bark, hugging the trunk, looking at the patterns as if she would like to talk to them. Then she would enter the fire damaged trunks though I cautioned there could be an animal inside. She even paid attention to every little flower growing in the vicinity.
Fire damaged tree
Pictures or videos can never do any justice to what they look like and the vibes they emit. Their ironic beauty reveals how the vagaries of nature or fire could never wipe them out from the face of this earth. Some of them are thousands of years old. They can sprout even from stumps or fire damaged trunks.
The phones go out of service as you enter the park and we had to depend on the maps provided by the visitor’s center. Our map showed 31 trails, most of them were marked ‘easy’ or ‘moderate.’ We didn’t even look at the strenuous ones and chose ‘Big Tree Wayside’ and ‘Foothill Trail’ on the first day and felt encouraged to pick up another moderate one of 4.3 miles on the second day. The trails are well-maintained and thankfully we didn’t meet any animals.
“Shrine” Drive through tree
We also drove through the Avenue of Giants at Humboldt, a picturesque drive, which is surrounded by Humboldt Redwoods State Park. It led us to a ‘drive through tree,’ a unique experience. Be prepared to shell our $8 to drive through this tree though we didn’t pay any kind of entry fee anywhere to enter the state parks.
Balroop Singh.
Do you know?
Redwood forests are millions of years old.
Fossils show that the relatives of today’s coast Redwoods thrived in the Jurassic Era 160 million years ago.
More than 95% of the world’s old-grown redwoods are in California.
Only 4% of the world’s old-growth redwoods exist today. 96% of the original old-growth coast redwoods have been logged.
Redwoods get their common name from their bark, which is reddish brown in color.
They are self-resistant to fungal disease and insect infestation.
They can protect themselves from fire with their thick bark, which holds large quantities of water.
Giant sequoias can live to 3,000 years, with the oldest on record living more than 3,500 years.
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Poetry tries to capture life in the most subtle manner, offering interpretations beyond the words of a poet. My guest post explores the link between life and poetry.
Poetry and life seem synonyms to me. The prism of poetry reflects life and its varied colors but the spectrum of life is much wider than poetry, which tries to capture some hues and even drifts into the darker crevices to discover those emotions that lurk on the sidelines, yearning to be embraced. Poetry digs deeper into those sensitivities; it understands the finer nuances of life and offers solace.
How well has Walt Whitman summed up the connection of poetry with life:
“We don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. So medicine, law, business, engineering… these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love… these are what we stay alive for.” – Walt Whitman
I sat by the shore Watching a woman Swathed by the waves Sometimes completely inundated She sat there frigid.
I knew she was crestfallen Her grief seemed to be raw A lump rose in my throat As I walked towards her She sat there unaware.
I spoke some words of solace To assuage her emotional deluge Her fiery eyes bore through me A scary stony expression of glare Didn’t deter my positivity
I pressed further…share it Say it…feel the words that heal The arrows that sat on her tongue Pierced my heart into smithereens I clutched her hand when she spoke…
Do you know a shooting pain That rises every moment? Do you know how it feels To be asphyxiated every second? Do you know what is loss?
Loss of an only child My only hope, my only star Who went to school to study Bubbling with life cut short by a bullet Is this the price we pay for learning?
Can your words restore my faith? Can your hope bring my son back? Can you assure me no more would be killed? Can your words mitigate the woes Of a single mother?
This poem was written after the deadliest school massacre occurred at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Broward County, Florida on February 14, 2018.
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Image: Sue Vincent
