A Tree in Four Parts

Part 1

I am a tree.  I was born in some South American city starting with the letter 'N' that I cannot pronounce.  I was born some time ago, but not having a brain, it is a year that is not right now.  Whoever decides trees knows the kind of tree I am.  

Quercus L., oak

Prunus serrulata, Japanese cherry blossom (despite geographical probability)

Cupressus sempervirens, cypress (oh, to be!)

I am fat in blossom.  I am sweaty and churned from cold, heat, and spring.  I am hard and barked.  

What I know is what I see.  I see like the stretching of a Hand.  I can feel Them walking from miles away, picnicking for a day.  I feel times back They have never been; my breath, an ocean.  These washes are east of me.

The wind, the wind.  She is my neglect sent rummaging for roots.  I have never lost.  I will never lose.  She is that guest I am always most awesomely in fear of seeing.  She knocks and loots.  Branches fall--embarrassment.  Because I do not know my time, I do not know who accuses me, who whispers solemn breath.  But, loud and wide, such clarity in Sky. 

Oh! Solemnity! Welcome to being a tree!  We do not shop, we do not sport, we do not bake, we do not style.  I drop my branches low for seasonal ebb and flow and smile.

Part 2

The Blooms

What kind of overgrown earth tells even one of us to green?  Which massive silly fern knows the kind of blooming we're in? Who knows the noon when leaves start falling?  Speak up and rustle.  You shake like an idiot, and the wind is still climbing. You must have caught all the hawks and the owls in their howling.  Surely, you log, like mossed rocks, you feel iron; surely, the mining; surely, the jawing, the inching deep into your linings.  You fall like an idiot, and the smell of burnt lumber is rising. The toothy metal disc mixes sooth, oil, and writhing; releases noxious toasty charring.  Your innards have no sound and your rings are all but charming.  But do, tell us, "Bloom! Grow your pine, you've no time to be inspired!" Shut up, distant thief. You cannot have the blooms we are finding.  Older leaves are falling.  The wind is gracious in its rising.  

Part 3

hickory, burger

oak, burn

cypress, hill

cherry blossom, tattoo

dogwood, meadow

weeping willow, frog

pecan, home

pine, forest

evergreen, snow

fur, christmas

aspen, needles

maple, guitar

birch, simon

mahogany, money 

cherry, truth

basswood, architect 

walnut, walrus

Part 4

tree tree tree tree tree tree grey tree tree 

tree tree tree tree tree tree tree tree tree

tree tree tree tree tree tree tree tree tree