My heart warmed recently when I read Emily Qian’s poem Trees from a Child’s Perspective on this site. In it she honors the tree and wisely likens the tree to parents. It brought to mind the poem I wrote years ago when my father passed. Thanks Emily.

I’m a Delta, BC resident who began writing poetry as a young girl but really connected with it in earnest in my mid-thirties as a way to explore and understand myself and the wider world. Now approaching 60, poetry and the written word continues to inspire me. I do love trees. I have found that without intention they have shown up in my poetry over time – It isn’t out of design, rather it seems to happen spontaneously, but it is always special when the tree shows up.

I have been thinking about Fairy Creek for some time, about the issues and the folks involved. These poems are a token of my appreciation to the folk who are out there being visibly committed to the cause of the wellness of trees, our planet and all of us as a whole.

APPLE TREE

Out in the orchard under an apple tree

Sits my grey haired daddy and little old me

He speaks softly to me of the woes of his soul

After living 9 lives on cannery row

He tells me quite plainly of his perceptions of strife

It’s just tasteless food that nourishes negativity in life

When a belly becomes full of that it never strives to be free

It stays locked in the ground like a chopped down tree

What made him most happy and gleeful at heart

Was the many a meeting of souls that do part

From all his exchanges with digits and numbers

He seems ripe now for the equation of slumber

A sleep that is restful and covers him up

And takes him so gently to the lip of the cup

Where he’ll drink of the syrup that binds the soul

To the pyramid of one’s innermost goal

The lessons he carried from head to toe

Continue to allow his daughter to grow

To keep on breathing the air of trust

That makes this story a true blue must

I gaze through his eyes covered gently in clover

I tell him he’s just started his time can’t be over

But his tender smile tells me what I need to know

He’s over halfway there a mere mile to go

I kiss him gently on his forehead so knowing

As we open our hearts for a moment of sowing

While he carefully transfers all mosaic to me

A pattern that holds the life’s blood key

I simply can’t believe the time has come

We both rise slowly under the setting sun

Only ‘tis just I who must now bravely leave

This orchard green of make believe

Turning once around amazed to see

My father now an apple tree