THE DRYAD MYTH ... HAS COME TO BE!

There are old stories of dancing tree spirits (dryads)..


 























































"I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree."*

and yet all of humanity 
is part of one big family tree. 
If you looked in from outside time, 
would our tree here be quite sublime? 
Since limb or leaf I am to be 
as part of this big family tree:
earthing it firmly to the ground,
catching light from above that's 'round -
my part to play may look like chance
as one may mock at trees that dance
yet as I look through this window
trees stand with their limbs akimbo
one waves to me in breezes high,
then gives a nod, and sounds a sigh.
I want to play my part with grace
until I see the poet's face.

[Since our old tree has got the rot
there seems no chance for "Camelot".
BUT, our tree had a tiny seed,
that fell to earth, grew like a weed.
I understand the deal to be:
if I let rot be got from me,
I can be grafted to that tree,
Hip Hip Hurray! We're dancing free!]

*  "Trees", by Joyce Kilmer.