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Amid The Trees

Posted on 12 June 2021 by H. Hennenburg
Image by Matthew Smith Illustrating poem titled Amid the Trees by H. Hennenburg
Image by Matthew Smith

Amid the Trees

Autumnal winds blew this summer’s day
And my hands worked to take the form of you
Oh creator, how I felt you in my bones
The elements of creation stacked up to the height of me
A frame falling short
But rising
Rising when you whispered my name
The one the trees gave to me
The day you gave me to the trees
Rising as their leaves chattered
Bracing for the fall
Already on this summer’s day
Hands working to create
My body ached
And you stood quiet amid the trees

© H. Hennenburg, 6 June 2021

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4 thoughts on “Amid The Trees”

  1. Sherry Marr says:
    12 June 2021 at 6:32 PM

    Heather, your poem is beautiful. I see the image was by Matthew Smith. I am wondering if it is the same Matthew Smith who was my friend since 1980 – he spent his last years on Bowen Island. If so, this is a small world.

    1. H. Hennenburg says:
      13 June 2021 at 10:34 AM

      Hi Sherry! Thanks for stopping by. That would be a small world indeed. I got the image from Unsplash, so I don’t know any more about the photographer than the name. Hope you’re well!

  2. Khaya Ronkainen says:
    19 June 2021 at 9:45 AM

    A powerful presence of the creator is truly felt amid the trees. Such a beautiful poem, H.

    I hope you’re keeping well, and enjoying the summer!

    1. H. Hennenburg says:
      20 June 2021 at 7:54 AM

      Thank you so much, Khaya! I hope you are also well. I loved the waterside photo you recently posted – the epitome of summer.

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This collection of poems by H. Hennenburg tells the story of WE. Born from Supernova, we bear the imprint of the universe: the mandate to expand. Gripped by a deep yearning, we march into a tempest…a great storm…a war between our desire to expand as individuals and our desire to expand into the truth of our oneness. We believe we are mere “echoes to the sea and gathering storm,” but there is more to the universe than what we see. We are “more than the caged experience of sight.” Endowed with an infinite stream of choices, what happens in our story if we reach for more?

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