Ode to Stump

Painter: Chris Berry
Poet: Judy Wyper

Flat on the ground at the base of a hill
Lies a log and its bits strewn around.
It’s been here some time and even more still Adorning this flattened green ground.
With knobs that were branches, it’s turning to dirt.
Trees engender immortality without seeking it, Their cells offered to nourish life.
Not so for human remains boxed into tombs or Cremains kept in urns.
Sprinkle me on the living Earth, That I may do some good at the end.

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