The Necessary Tree

author’s note:

The part about rolling a pine cone is not meant to be a metaphor.  It does inform the spirit.


THE NECESSARY TREE

I seem to need to be
around certain things
I don’t necessarily
so much enjoy--

for instance:
I‘d prefer a wavy free palm tree
to sit beneath
instead of this pine
with its sticky resinous mist
drifting down on me--

I’d prefer a nightingale’s fluting
instead of the carping
of a blue jay’s black beak--

I’d prefer a mellow dusk
instead of this scorcher sun that turns
the hard dirt into hot dust--

those glinting pine needles
prick my eyes--

I’m pulverized by the dryness--
wet clouds sizzle and dwindle
before they can reach me.

Nonetheless...

I’m happy in the knowledge
that even amid such staleness
life carries a pregnancy--

--even the rotted fallen pine cone
   rolling under my hand
   informs the spirit
   with each of its spiked tips.

To be forced to ruminate
under this aloof pine
is freedom of choice
because I’m willing to sit tight
until I must stand up--

until whatever string
pulled me here
raises my bruised
but obedient knees--

until this parched earth
has drained me
of what I no longer need.

My question now is:
when I’m ordered
to pull the string up
should I take credit
for doing what
I was made to do
out of necessity?

© 2010, Michael R. Patton
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