I listen.
Yes, I listen.
The first conversation
I recall listening to
was about me
— “now make sure you choose just the right place to plant it. It will grow big and strong and it anchors into the ground with spreading roots.”
— “so, should we put it in the middle of the field? Is that a good place?”
Growing
big and strong
I hear their plans
for my future
What will become
Of me
I’m rooted in place
Spreading out wide
Under the grass,
I cling to the rich,
Black soil as
It nourishes and
Strengthens me
I feel my branches sway
My trunk, still growing
Swaying in the direction
Of the wind,
Like a boomerang,
I return right back
To my rightful position
Fall and winter
come
and go
I’ve lost my leaves
Multiple times
My trunk no longer
Sways with the direction
Of the wind.
Now my branches sway
And leaves flutter
The wind whistles a melody
Gliding
between open spaces
I notice that over time
The sound of my leaves
In the wind changes
My leaves flutter,
Then rustle,
And in deep winter,
There is just a whistle
as the wind
searches for a partner
To enjoy its last dance
Time marches forward,
I stand taller now
My branches stretching,
begging to reach
the other side of the garden
I take center stage,
Providing direction
Like a drum major
Keeping time
I am a home to
nests,
lizards,
And caterpillars,
Over the years —
I become the steady fixture
In the park
The meeting place,
A centerpiece to build upon
A nearby bench
Provides comfort
While resting in my shade
On a warm day
The calmness of the garden
Encouraged lively conversations and activities,
As —
kites got stuck in my branches
— “look mommy, my kite is so high! I bet it can see the whole world!”
— “heeellppp! My kite is stuck at the top of the tree!”
birds built nests
— “look at the bluish green of that egg. Four of them! There will be a proud family here soon!”
picnics were enjoyed
— “this is such a restful day. I wish we could do this every weekend.”
One day, as I was listening, something very unexpected happened.
— “I love you so much! I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
It was such a happy day,
and then, before I knew it
— “I’m going to carve our initials right here!”
— “oh, put a heart around it!”
I could feel the sharpness
Of the knife,
Carving into my trunk,
Pushing down,
Flicking out pieces
Of wood,
Changing my landscape,
Creating a
permanent scar
Sap drip, dripping,
Down my bark
As I reel from the
unexpected violation
For years following
I unwillingly
Provide shade
And comfort to
A multitude of visitors
Conversations continued
But I pulled away
solitude, my refuge
Then one day
An older couple
were enjoying a picnic
And something remarkable happened.
— “look, here it is! It’s a bit higher now, but they’re still there!”
— “our initials, oh my gosh!”
— “this is where I first told you I loved you”
— “I remember! I’ll never forget that day”
Before I knew it, there were multiple sets of hands touching my trunk
The coarseness of my trunk
Was rough on their hands
While at the same time,
The gentle smoothness
Of their hands calmed me
Someone was making
a copy of the initials
on paper
Children were placed
on my branches
And hung upside down
And then I heard
something truly surprising
— “when I was young, my grandfather and I picked out this tree. It was just a couple feet tall. We planted it in this very spot. He told me it would grow to be big and strong one day.”
— “I wish he was here to see it now, and to see all of you.”
I listened that day.
I’m listening still.