In the Hollow: The Secret of the Trees

As Told By the Wood Elves

1

The Trees keep secrets. They steal, as well.

It seems unlikely that they could or would.

Oh, do not be misled by their majestic height and verdant crowns.

From their towering posts, they silently secure their desires.

When rainbows glow freshly after a storm,

those ephemeral and elusive prisms,

the trees wring the sky with their boughs

and lap up the Yellows, Blues and Purples,

collected in the basins about their roots. 

We see the roots run deep and long into the soil.

However, they strip colors from flora and rocks alike.

“Lend me just one more,” the trees beseech the soil,

glistening with crystals and minerals.

The trees wraps their roots around the forest’s foliage in a covert embrace to sip the Green from the stems.

 

2

The Wood Elves bring their axes to fell the trees.

When the tree breaks, the bootleg of colors,

woven through the rings, is revealed.

Its garish core is exposed, and the lumberjacks rejoice.

 

3

The Carver walks to each log from the great trees.

He closes his eyes, and lays his ear next to the timber.

Does it sing? Does it hum? What does it request?

He runs his hand over the log to feel the vibrations.

He nods his head in agreement and carries one piece away.

 

4

He splits the log,

shaves the bark,

hacks away the excess,

                listens to the instructions.

The wood is rolled, refined, and defined.

until the jagged edges create a hollow.

He finely chisels a smoothness in it. The tree never knew.

He rubs until a bowl yawns from the block.

He polishes it into a round sleekness.

The Greens and the Reds shine with a hint of the Gold.

The Blacks and Browns evoke the deepness of the earth.

 

5

The wooden bowl will not remember its days under the rainbow.

Its duty is to hold, bear the desires of others.

The sawdust is returned to the forest, tossed into the soil,

so another tree may summon these secret colors.

© 2017 Ashini J Desai All Rights Reserved

This poem was selected for the Pennsylvania Guild of Craftsman for an ekphrastic poetry exhibit where poets were paired with an artisan's work. I was assigned a handmade wooden bowl, and I was inspired when the artist explained he use Rainbow Poplar wood. I never heard of this wood, so it immediately triggered an image for the poem. 

Then I spent some time watching Youtube videos to understand how they even carve bowls! The artist (Bob Antonishak) was impressed I got into the details, but basically, I had no idea about the process so I needed to watch. It seemed like wooden bowls appeared magically anyway.

*Note: The image above is a rainbow eucalyptus tree, which has more vibrant colors, suitable to accompany this poem.