Museum of Trees
Finish every day and be done with it - Ralph Waldo Emerson
Let yesterday, all yesterdays
go into your museum of trees
some verdant, some burnt.
Sure, you may smell the smoke
of tamped down desires,
and, yes, the leaves constantly
mutter nonsense as if they had regrets.
The broken branch
crashed to the ground
but it missed you, move on.
The autumn fall of forgiveness
softens the forest floor.
The constant burble of the stream
wants to hold you
ease you with cool touching.
Slights and insults roll over the rockslide,
slick from years in the stream,
swallowed in the white water roil.
Leave the snapped twigs behind
under a loamy mound.
Yes, there are also the mounds
marked with stones
some heart-shaped, some a cross,
some an X.
Pray your prayer and make progress.
Rain rinses everything clean.
Rise and begin serenely again
lift your mug heavy with coffee
give thanks
all you need for happiness is here
in the clearing of your morning vision.
Frank Desiderio is a priest and poet who served as a campus minister (UCLA), retreat leader and film producer. Now, he produces two video poems each week on his Substack, Holy Poetry, https://holipoetry.substack.com. His poems have appeared in the Spring Hill Review, Amethyst Review, America, Windhover and Presence among other journals. Currently he lives in Manhattan and finds joy in helping to raise his nieces, writing poetry and doing Tai Chi.
Amethyst Review 