TREE OF PEACE (Skaehetsi?kona)

Ken Bartlett 1934 (Leominsterr Mass)

July 23 


A skeleton from time hovers over me with jagged limbs, seeking to envelop and disclose its history.  No longer adorned with a crown of green.  Now gray, soft with decay, covered with patches of moss, and pocked from woodpeckers foraging days. Hence, a soliloquy is delivered by the 'Tree of Peace' to you and to me.

“Before Europeans came to exploit this land, we grand
White Pine were abundant and soared over one hundred feet up through the mist. Our needles like to tease,  swish, sway in the breeze, mingle, and please with tea.

Huddled, we support our shallow roots entangled. Together we see as one and detected the advance of a benign intruder. At last, he comes, bringing hope. The peace-giver stops to rest and to wait.  A gathering has now begun.

Warriors and Chiefs from Mohawk, Cayuga, Seneca, Onondaga, and Oneida have had enough!  With direction from Dekanawida, I was chosen and uprooted.  In the cavity of my soul, all weapons
of war were thrown.  Great Mind delivered a reign of peace.

Returned to my posture, my roots capture and hug the
buried hatchets. I am honored to be anointed the peace symbol for the Iroquois Nation.  Beneath my canopy shall meet forever those who seek friendship, unity, and placidity.

The seed of my being immortalizes our endowed symbol, serving the League that continues in perpetuity, by bequeathing their titles to their heirs. Together we aspire and continue on a helix of enfolding years.

So many times since, I have endured attempts to
destroy my mission, over, and over again.  Assaults continue as my patience grows thin.  I am but a symbol. A burden to bear for all who share a yen and need for tranquility.

I cannot grant your wish for peace, for I am what I am.
Only you can dispel the crying and pain you possess.  
There will only be serenity for you when you choose it.
Release the hate that churns and burns within your essence.

Come, sit and shelter with me, rest against my bark. Inhale the scent of my spirit.  Unwind what is wound too tight. Take your time. Ingest all that is good and digest it. Give thanks for that power of love and peace that now feels right.

About this poem

This writing was inspired by the wisdom of the many Native Americans I have been blessed to know and my profession as a forester.

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Written on May 29, 2023

Submitted by compostken on July 10, 2023

2:00 min read
42

Quick analysis:

Scheme A BA X XX XB X XA XXXX X
Characters 2,157
Words 400
Stanzas 9
Stanza Lengths 1, 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 2, 4, 1

Ken Bartlett

retired forester residing in a continuing care home in Lancaster, PA with his wife of 59 years more…

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