She was more
than a sapling,
so robust.
One summer she
bowed
her tear shaped body,
offering
a hundred sweet pears
to any creature
that sought her gifts.
Did the deer remember?
Fruit that fermented became
fertilizer for hungry plants.
When they
girded her slender trunk
that winter
I felt betrayed
by the herd of graceful creatures
I fed…
She was dead.
Her sweet cambium
stripped away
under rough bark.
Unable to carry
nitrogen, water, nutrients
from trunk to twig
the tree succumbed.
I would have cut her down
but she was hidden
below the house
in the lower field,
out of sight.
So the tree still stood –
skeleton gray against
new green
and wheat.
I continued to visit her –
murmured endearments,
stroked the scarred
trunk
“re- membering”
her life,
the wholeness
she once embodied.
Every fall I cut the field
Each spring I walked the
Round.
It was during
a May meandering
that I drifted
towards the tree –
startled when
lime green
caught my eye.
A few stunted leaves
were unfurling…
How could this be?
Bearing witness
to the struggle,
I cried out,
laid my head against
her trunk, caressed
a branch or two.
Some life force
had not surrendered –
During the summer
more leaves appeared.
I honored her tenacity,
placed protective wire
around her girth
under Autumn’s chill.
The philosopher held
the inevitable question…
How?
When I approached her
this spring
plump buds had formed
on branches over my head.
The Red Winged Blackbird
courted us both
from one of Pear’s
blue sky limbs…
After the heat wave
I couldn’t wait
to see her again…
Strolling down
the pine scented path.
I peered into the field
walked towards her
gasping in amazement.
A brilliant White Earth Star
stood there before me
festooned in
Bridal blossoms.
Honey Bees hummed
from every pearl -like petal.
“How did you do that?”
I queried in wonder,
recalling suddenly,
that I knew –
all trees communicate
underground,
ask for help,
exchange information
through rootlets,
mycelial networks,
miles of fungi,
woven into a tapestry
from tree to tree.
Did nearby white pine
or crabapple
nurture her
roots and trunk
when all seemed lost?
Miracles occurred
with regularity.
Like this one.
I was standing next to
a blooming pear tree
who would one day
bear sweet fruit!
Life had triumphed
for a cosmic moment.
Woman and Tree
were both transformed
by relationship
running deep.
Working Notes
This piece of prose was generated by the question of how much difference my love for this tree might have had on her return to life. Obviously there were biological/ecological forces that helped the tree recover, but my sense is that my love for her also helped in some mysterious way.
Developing a relationship with a tree or lizard or dog seem to create a reciprocity that strengthens both participants. And trees and women have an ancient relationship that stretches back through mythological time.
When we “re – member” some part of us brings what appears to be the past and the present together – my sense is that there is a wholeness inherent in remembering that literally blurs the boundaries between the living and the dead.
(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.