I learned about some trees, when they’re cut down
Will sprout a new fine shoot that’s left to grow
And thrives because of strong roots still below.
These roots keep plants above from growing brown
Because they store the water they bestow.
I learned about these trees when they’re cut down
Will sprout a new fine shoot that’s left to grow.
This precious wealth of underlying crown,
Unseen, yet sending life robust and slow,
Makes new tree stretch and garden riches flow.
I learned about some trees, when they’re cut down
Will sprout a new fine shoot that’s left to grow
And thrives because of strong roots still below.
(There were so many ways this prompt could have been taken, especially around Thanksgiving, but I kept thinking about a ministry I heard about the other month: FMNR, Farmer Managed Natural Regeneration. This organization helps third world farmers nurture the shoots from trees that have been cut for field space. If they regrow new saplings using the old root system, the tree has a better chance of survival than a brand new sapling. In addition to this, the old root system retains more water which is spread out under the planted field, and so the field is more drought resistant. It’s all kind of amazing, and I’m just beginning to wrap my brain around it. You can read more about it here: https://fmnrhub.com.au.
As for the poetry form, I chose an English Madrigal (created by Chaucer). It’s iambic pentameter with a tercet, quatrain, and sestet. The three lines in the first stanza are reused throughout the poem.)