So far my tree brothers and sisters have not defended ourselves in the forest, lungs of the world that we are. Pushing and sensing we grow for a century or more in that time we develop senses a type of sight, we have energy within and even inform you in our rings as to the passing of years, dose that not make you think, put your ear to us and feel the pull of our energy. Yes we look awkward and funny to look at in our random poses, you can even hide or shelter under our summer canopies and we cast our cushion of medallion leaves upon earth ground and do not forget our spinning seeds given to earth man for eternity…as you wander through the forest, we whisper and we know.
By Mason Cult Poet
Mason Cult Poet was born in Westmorland in the Lake District in a farming engineering community. On one side of the family many portions of nobility mainly the Stuarts. Mason Cult did as the herd does and went through the education process. attended drama school and ran small businesses. The stigma of mental health issues blighted him as it does with all creative people, was diagnosed in 2011 with a form of Asperger’s Syndrome which can impair executive function however it has given him a higher sense to see what others do not and from this ability he concludes the world is controlled by esoteric forces and that other interventions operate steering the world we know ro a new beginning.. What we witness we are forced to challenge and the work of Mason Cult assists this
I think that I shall never see
A poem as lovely as a tree.
A tree whose lovely mouth is pressed
Against the Earth’s sweet, flowing breast.
A tree that looks at God each day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray
[…]
Poems are made by fools like me
But only God can make a tree
Joyce Kilner
Well Mason, God may make the trees, but you can truly, make the poems.