Images of Trees

1.

I’m a tree where a small stream bends.
Current carries the soil away. 
Thus, slowly, am I disemboweled, 
my roots, every day, more exposed.

Water sucks trees down,
so rivulets may grow into streams
and streams into rushing rivers:
thus, are we drowned.

2.

Or there is a forest fire. 

Since I am unable to move, 
I draw branches in, 
crouch down
and proceed to cower.

3.

The trees I most admire are
the stalwart oaks,
which morning and evening stand fast
as strong winds caress
and clouds form above a halo,
where the shadow of the moon may rest
in if in harbor built shallows. 

4.

Some men need room.
Some drive roots down,
while others,
more fragile than leaves,
unannounced let go
and take a ride on the wind.

Where they go, who knows?

5.

A friend that I once loved, 
like the wind turned around and rent
everything that got in his way,
including me.

Like a tree by the water I stand. 
I will not be moved
from this place where so long I have rested.

Still, I dance a little,
my leaves to orchestral sound
though my bones are brittle.

6.

Like a tree, I put roots down, 
spread branches out,
make niches in my arms for nests. 
I let fruit drop and rot
that wasps might sip;

If, then, I crack and fall,
I will lie unmoved,
a home to beetles and ants.
Food I will be for some, 
and protective home to others. 

And this, I am told by trees, 
is the form trust takes:
accepting both taking and giving,
so with grace received.