and a tree

by Kate Wakeling

and a tree is a promise
safe-kept by a seed,
and a tree is a dance
that is swung by the breeze,

and a tree is an engine
spinning only on air
and water and light;
nothing lost, nothing spare,

and a tree is a king
who is topped with a crown,
(and a tree never once
loses touch with the ground)

and a tree is a home
with numberless doors,
and a tree is a world
for an ant to explore,

and a tree is a gift
(for a tree is a lung)
and a tree is a song
that is whispered and sung
by the bees and the birds,
and in rustles and creaks,
yes, a tree is a song
that is sung without words,

and a tree is a lesson
in the meaning of roots,
and how out of the mud
swell the sweetest of fruits,

and a tree is a story
of hope and repair,
or perhaps more a question;
a wish or a prayer,
for a tree (plus a tree)
shows us how we might share,

and when we should grow
and when we should sleep
and what we could lose

and what we must keep.