If a Tree Could Talk

I photographed this beauty, the Hanging Garden Tree, on the Tall Tree Trail on Meares Island, Clayoquot Sound, where I spent the ten most glorious years of my life. Standing in front of it was a more spiritual experience than I ever had in any church or cathedral.

If a tree could talk, it would tell you about endurance,
how it stands fast and deeply rooted when the winter wind
bends and lashes its branches,
holding firm to the knowledge that after the storm,
the calm will come again.

It would discuss its place in the scheme of things,
being a link between earth and sky,
necessary, contributing to and connected to all.
It would tell you there is no microbe so small,
nor entity so large,
that is not equal in importance in its position
in the circle of life.

If a tree could talk,
it would have to talk about beauty,
knowing its loveliness graces the world,
but that it always remembers that the stink weed, too,
inhales carbon dioxide and exhales oxygen,
and thus is as worthy of respect,
is as necessary to all creatures that breathe.
And it would say that everything that breathes
is worthy of existing, and has the right to live its life
without interference.

You might ask it how it feels
when it hears the loud chainsaws coming closer,
and it would reply that all of its leaves tremble
and that it quivers inside
with a terrible terror,
for there are so few left of the Old Ones,
they harbor and shelter so much life;
they are needed.

Before you leave, you might really look
at this tree's beauty
and relevance in the grand scheme of things.
Perhaps whisper a "thank you" as you turn away
for its thousand years of surviving
in perfect peace and most excellent contribution
to the eternal circle of life.