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Naturalistic
Observations
by Paul T. Cook
(Bremerton, Washington, 1975)
Witness the death of a tree
after a storm, perhaps a very heavy rain as
invaders in the night, striking swiftly and with
heedless warnings.
Or at times in the bright sun the potential house, once a
gem in the forest, the length submitted
to the quadrant fall.
Once beautiful coat, the bark,
bears ugly scars but reveals
the solid trunk of year layers.
We ponder, "Why this tree?"
further, "Why this mighty
natural wonder?" Passing curiosity goes
not beneath
its coat.
The seeker, loving or appreciative of nature
pauses to examine,
to analyze, to discover.
This fibrous cadaver will become its own
grave, but "Why this tree", again heard by
unconcerned boughs.
Environment for trees, not unlike that of
man, reveals soft soil at the precious point where once the
roots of life had nurtured.
It drank of thirst freely, never in want from
shallow water table, short to reach.
Troubled times from air, not even gusts had
swayed a branch
or dropped a seed of
holiday adornment.
Unconditioned in this habitat in
the rigors of a storm, certain of
the population in this stand fall,
unprepared, some not
even knowing.
Observe some others in the
stand still reaching to the sky for
enlightment, towards earth's
center for nutrient, reaching
ever reaching not in waiting.
Tall and straight from heavenly
reach, as
hundreds of fingers work into the depths of soil towards
drink and food, elusive yet available, to the tireless and
deserving, these trees still grow, still live to provide, to
share their usefulness and beauty.
How often now we mortals also
fall from stunted root, awaiting
care that never comes
from undernourished, or
over-tended earth.
Without strong root, a whisper
of breeze becomes as if a
mighty storm, unable to sway
and flex, as boughs in health.
Some fold and droop,
prerequisite to eternity,
as if a tree without its ground. |