If Olive Trees could speak to us, what stories would they tell?
Would the ancient grandmothers entertain us well?
Would they bid us to sit down, beneath their leafy boughs,
And enchant us with their lore for just a little while?
“Once I was young, like you!” she says “and not so bent and
Worn. My limbs were strong, leaves silver-green, and on them
Fruit was born.
My oil was sacred and was found in temples far and wide;
And in holy lamps was borne to carry light inside…”
She stops a bit, recalling when her oil was liquid gold,
When to harm her was a crime and few would be so bold!
“Oh, it was fine, so long ago” she says with dreamy stare. “Poets
Sang our praises; Kings guarded us with care! We had our place
In history, and all our roots grew deep; when I remember how It
Was the pain it brings is deep”.
If Olive trees could speak to us, Recalling fame and glory,
Do you suppose that this would be the way to tell their story?
Sandra Lee Smith, October 2007/Updated May 12, 2018