In the passage of time and throughout history,
be there anything as peaceful as a tree?
What but a tree could grow so large or tall
and not have bullied his way at all?
Each starts as a seed so passive as he moves
born on the wind, eaten, shuffled into grooves.
Then he nestles into the cool damp earth,
and waits patiently for his eventual birth.
Slowly he exercises the wisdom of eons,
and extends first his root, forever to lean on.
Only once he is rooted in times greatest treasure
does he reach to the sky in potential unmeasured.
Gently he grows, gracefully extending his boughs
dancing on the wind as only arbors know how.
With each sweep and bend in his undulating dance
He captures the viewer's heart, as if in a trance.
Then rest the gentle tree when naught disturbs him
and soaks up the sunshine that sprinkles upon him.
And whilst he is still, high above the ground,
his roots he extends without making a sound.
But there in the trunk, an insect invasion
the tree first confronts it with gentle persuasion
"I'm not tasty I'm tough, just look at this bark,
surely there's a tastier treat in the park."
But not dissuaded the ravaging parasite
bores into the tree and administers it's blight.
Defenses breeched he can naught but bleed,
and pray before his death to scatter his seed.
Then scatter he does, his last gift to the world
his young to grow up all leafy and knurled.
To dance and to play us the raspy leaf song
and grow to the sky so slender and long.
And to fill the void that is left by their sire,
once to the forest floor he has at last retired.
Whispering, "The worst damage he ever did at all,
was the day that his greatness, expired did fall."
Then with the autumn as each shivers and grieves,
and divests it's self of its opulent leaves,
they cover the dead, their beauty now shorn,
and in branches and sticks, his passing they mourn.
But once come the spring, his memory celebrate
and send forth new leaves, a memorial ornate,
and with dancing and music to celebrate life,
a sound more beautiful than dulcimer and fife.
Rejoice oh ye young trees, rustle and bounce,
spread forth your joy, despair thou renounce,
for life is your purpose, your being, your song,
and bestow it thou dost, thine whole life long.
Breathe in and breathe out oh generous tree,
Send forth sweet breath to each living thou see,
Gently nudge us aside, when thy way we do hinder,
And reward our lea with thy wondrous splendor.