Staring into Nature's Mirror

Can’t you see?
We are nothing but trees
planted with the golden crown of cognition
(we could not feel more weighed down.)

I am that June tree, ripe and relaxed
swaying to Mother’s whistling winds,
quiet and complacent under an Earthly glow.

I am that January tree, now vast and vacant
stretching limbs in every direction,
reaching for fuel from the indifferent sky.

I stand firmly
but among so many others,
we become one Green.

This Green, it divides:
that one scarred with a child’s knife, tattoos of first loves
that one closer to the sun, a dependent grower
that one aged by wars, the all-knowing Grandfather Elm.

Side by side,
we grow, we demise,
each one of us rooted in nature.