Tree Talk I

Once a tree jumped
And plumped itself in front of me,
As if to say that it had a right to the place it had been
Growing there in the woods in the middle of what I imagined would be
The perfect bedroom; for it was feng shui and perfectly arranged, with light enough
And oriented rightly so, and I decided that to assuage my guilt I would argue
The saliency of this point, right then and there, with that all high-and-mighty
Tree, so full of itself that it dared to trumpet its just cause to the ground
It had claimed as a seed and chartreuse seedling, growing
Form from the death on the forest floor, which now
Was mostly paved and roadways, highways
And bi-ways that this tree yet fought…

Trees, in a line, a puffy frilly line of attention and attention-getting,
Smite exhaustion with their exhalation and infuse me with great ponderances!

How is it these trees make joy manifest?
Stirring with the breezes my soul to flutter like leaves stutter in high winds
And bark shards, twists, flakes, peels, and chips, pitching to the ground?

Why do trees emit awe?…through their curvistically wending roots—
Engendering appreciation to love, brides and bridegrooms they wed high atop an airy perch
The dress and tuxedo seem like seagulls and crows convening for signals and chow—
Through their waxy to velvety, rubbery to coarse skin;
Through their spiny to serrated, smooth to geometric form;
Through their scratchy to squishy, hard to brittle husk;
Through their gray to brown, green to blue, black to white, red to yellow color;
Through their conical to spreading, giant to miniature, thick to scraggly shape;
The trees make us think, and fill us with emotion.

Whether seen in daylight or nightlight
Sunlight or moonlight, brightlight or darklight
Weathering, weathered and weatherless,
Trees are our progenitors, parents, ancestors, forebears
And stewards and at once our prodigies, progenies Children,
Lineage, and family; and that is why we call out our Family tree!
When once we said our Tree of life…
And even before then, our entrance into this world
Was owed to the trees…
Whereas now, they help house us and make us comfortable
While we kill them slowly off and us too….

Then that tree spoke again, and asked
If I had seen what this imagery meant, or if I still
Felt that I had the right to take a life of an elder by hundreds
Of years, and if in doing so, my bedroom now covering a rotting stump
Would I sleep better at night for knowing I had less pure oxygen to breathe
And less cool shade in the slow summer months and less protective insulation
From bitter wind in the wintertime to keep me comfortable, and I thought
A minute, put on some gloves…grabbed my grizzly chainsaw…
And cut off my legs at the ankles—red sap oozing out—
The last thing I heard was a loud rending crash