The Memory of Trees

what joy to stumble upon

a young tree you set in the ground

maybe a decade back or so

its roots now deep and spreading

soaking up the earth

the trunk firm and straight

branches arching up and out

to shape the contours of the crown

so young so confident in rain clouds

and tomorrow’s weather

you came somehow

long ago to understand

each tree in its due course

forms a uniqueness

born of inner beauty

for who can dwell

beneath them in the forest

in this life or another

as they breathe you in

and dare to utter

or even think

how one is more

sacred than the next

and yet you hold

that special place

near to your heart

for the sapling

that you planted

wondering at times

what lingers at its core

perchance what it remembers

you know

on some untold day years hence

its struggle will be done

the leaves will brown a final time

and not come back

premonitions of this kind

are the comfort the soul offers

when left alone to wander

one day each tree sets down

its remaining elements

its knowledge mixes with the soil

and its work is over

but you will not be witness

to that last joy and sadness

you will not share together

that quiet moment of renewal

you played your part in the early days

and in the rings of rotting wood

you are now surely forgotten

gone like the tree you planted

into a long dark silence