THE TREE WAS A PERSON

I wasn’t there when they came with the saws
so the tree that watched the land is gone.
I think of Jesus on the tree
that was also cut down,
my piece of land has lost its sense
of possibility that life could express
adventure, joy, compassion.

Though Jesus is in heaven or somewhere inside
— let’s not argue that —
the tree is gone after 200 years,
I’ll count the rings to verify,
and life will go on till it doesn’t
and no one died and no one suffered
and everything is made of light.

But the light coming through the midsummer
canopy, greenish warm, and the light
of reddish leaves in fall, the clear light
of winter through bare branches —
all that is gone this last spring of life.
Only a ghost comes up from earth
shooting up the cambrium like love through brain cells

but the tree is gone.

5/4/25

Altadena