(For Ashley, on the occasion of her drawing a tree and asking the question.)
What if we were meant to be trees?
Meant to give life instead of take it?
To stare at the stars until
They were freckles on our faces naked?
Meant not to fake it?
What if we are trees but don’t yet know it?
Because we don’t yet know how to show it?
How to raise our limbs to the sunlight’s call,
Drink in its life, breathe it out for all.
Maybe all things living are at heart one and the same,
Leaning on and leaned upon,
Your sunset someone else’s dawn,
Reaching out explore myself,
See in others my own wealth—
In whom we live and move,
In whom we have our being,
Whose voice in every voice is heard,
And whose face is every face we’re seeing.
(Picture from here.)