To speak only of beauty and bountiful means
Would be the perfect and serene
But within this picture of life it seems
Are both the best and worst extremes
Could there be a place for variance and degree
Where one could actually climb the tree
Where the almighty dollar does not divide the scholar
Nor chop them down to the ground
Releasing a sad and mournful sound
If not the old growth tree will stand chopped at the knee
It’s true potential never to be
Unless there is sudden truth in our democracy
So easy is it to kill the tree
Considering not the human plea
Why won’t the butchers simply stop and listen
Is it because their ears have been so sinisterly christened
By the almighty dollar with its addictive noise
As it wrinkles and crinkles when counted by the boys
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.