Redwood rising to the sky,
Your lines become a man,
As tracing up you with my eye
I see your branches fan.
Your ancient trunk stands straight and strong;
You seem to brush the sky
As silently you sing a song
Of centuries gone by.
I lie here on your bed of brown
And think of long ago,
Before this road led to a town,
Before this life I know.
You still were here, you'll still be here
In centuries to come,
When lips that sing this song so clear
Are silent, yes, and dumb.
It is at the suggestion
That this mortal soon may die
That I generate the question
"How straight and strong stand I?"
I have no long and noble past;
My seeds remain unsown.
What shadow will my being cast
In times as yet unknown?
And yet I feel my spirit rise
In poetry and song,
Unfettered by my common size,
Unbound by plans gone wrong.
I've shared you with a man I love;
His shadow touches mine.
As long as he remembers me
I will be divine.