Straight and tall, the wind
Has helped your branches fall, but life
Still courses through your veins.
And life adorns your buttresses with vibrant green
And life makes food of blackened caverns in between
And life is nesting in your limbs’ remains
And sheltering in sleepy hollows from the rain.
A century or two it takes
For wind and fire to cocreate
The perfect home for all this life to share.
And when the logger’s coming near
Does it fill your heart with fear
For all this life you’ve nurtured for so long?
There must be a better way
For folk to earn a living wage,
Their goal in life was never to destroy.
If only our society
Could nurture life, as does this tree
With every action, word and deed.