The Tree Is Here, Still, In Pure Stone

The tree is here, still, in pure stone,
in deep evidence, in solid beauty,
layered, through a hundred million years.
Agate, cornelian, gemstone
transmuted the timber and sap
until damp corruptions
fissured the giant's trunk
fusing a parallel being:
the living leaves
unmade themselves
and when the pillar was overthrown
fire in the forest, blaze of the dust-cloud,
celestial ashes mantled it round,
until time, and the lava, created
this gift, of translucent stone.

by Pablo Neruda

Comments (4)

We lie under trees which someone else planted long back. Someone else will rest in future under the trees we plant today. A beautiful poem.
Insightful and lovely.This poem is a gem!
.............yes, seeds are the most amazing things.....truly from a seed we have the universe....fabulous poem...
I am amazed at the peaceful moments WA captures, yet the depth of thought in the last phrase of where will he be when the seedling is a tree.