Tree Dream

 Tree Dream

If truly we have a chance 

for another life,

my deep wish would be

to come back as a tree.

Standing tall at the edge of a forest,

roots tangled with my neighbors’ roots.

And as a small sapling, I’d be nourished

by the wise mother tree above me.

As I get older, I would join the stand

of tall strong trees at the edge of our land,

some my own kin, all taking our turn,

holding up the whole, reaching out to others.

When storms come through, we’d stand

grounded, solid, bracing each other

as the wind whips past, sending warnings

to the trees across the valley by our roots.

In summer, I would hold out my arms to welcome

beings in different shapes: animals, insects, birds, 

as I host a wide ecosystem of life,

all thriving together in the small world around my body.

Squirrels scampering up and down my branches,

birds digging out homes in my trunk,

insects nestled in my bark that feed the bigger life.

Eggs and seeds buried in my leaf mast below.

And maybe a little girl, doing what I did as a person,

would climb high, make a soft nest and sit with me,

someone to watch the world with me, 

someone who is my friend while I stand tall.

And when I finally die, my branches drooping,

my wood dry and hard, my roots dead and broken,

my body will remain in this beloved landscape,

useful to thousands even though my life force is over.