Lesssons From a Tree

Lessons From a Tree

The tree’s bare branches
fan out like a firecracker frozen in air 
stretch out to the horizon,
caress the earth, 
push up to the sky,
worshipping the heavens.

Cold and dark it stands
in the dead of winter
but not dead itself.
Fat, solid roots run
like a tangled mat of thick, dry hair
beneath the pillory of frigid earth. 
Behind its mask of death,
life runs deep under the massive trunk,
down into the depths of the earth
feeding from the breast of nature, herself.

The harsh father winds torment the tree,
wrestle with its limbs,
redirects its growth.
The tree holds fast. 
Bending to the wind,
weeping at the loss of the weaker branches. 
Snow, flood and insects batter its bark each year;
and each year, for over one hundred years,
the tree becomes more resilient to their attacks,
more accepting of their existence.

Each spring, in defiance,
the tree sheds it mask and reaches for the sun. 
Small green sprouts,
muted by monstrous limbs,
begin to bud.
The rains come
and lifeless limbs transfigure
into a burst of energy, color, and sound. 
The resulting leaves mock the son of the winter winds and
sparkle green like emerald flakes.

The golden wheat and yellow-tail,
blanket the surrounding countryside. 
Respectfully they bow to the tall green grasses
as they approach the shadow of the tree and
filter down to a rich,
dark earth beneath the tree’s umbrella. 
Huge roots protrude from the dark moistness,
creating pockets large enough to cradle a child. 
Their raw, dry ragged edges contradict the supple,
lush welcome of the tree’s spring outfit.

Unmasked, yet not bare,
the tree flourishes. 
Birds and bugs, squirrels and mice
take refuge from the summer sun. 
The invitation radiates beyond the tree. 
Like the pied piper of old,
it calls to the children of the surrounding valley. 
Confident in its location and
without doubt of its existence,
the children skip off through the rolling fields. 
With golden whips slapping them about,
the children sing and laugh –
enjoying the journey, and
anticipating its end.

Confidant and friend,
consoler and teacher,
the tree is there. 
It stands patient and loving
as the children pull at its limbs,
climb its heights,
read in its branches and
nap in its arms. 
Respect is learned at the cost of a broken leg;
patience and persistence with the reward of reaching the top;
love by initials carved into its trunk; and
loyalty by returning generation after generation.

The lush green leaves fade to the setting summer sun. 
Fall ignites an explosion of yellows, oranges and reds
Then the leaves shrivel and fall to the ground. 
Not a death, but a life beginning,
for the fallen leaves nourish and protect the sturdy,
yet vulnerable roots from the brutal battles yet to fight. 

The birds migrate,
the squirrels seek cover,
and the children venture less far from their hearth. 
Within weeks, the tree is but a memory
evoking a warm smile.

Each season
Brings a beginning
and an end.
Each change offers a choice
to learn and grow, have faith and live, or
settle and diminish, give in and die.

The tree bears the burden
of winter alone,
returns to its deathlike shroud,
and holds firm to the earth;
for spring will come again.