Sonnets For My Living Room Tree
I am not sure your name but know you well,
how many years have you been in my space
to provide me my breath during my race
though you will sit and remain very still.
The proof that tender love and care is worth
more than the money from a Billionaire
who brings no comfort or purifies air
and quickly disappears from the planet Earth.
You have been there through my times of weakness,
so still in your Earthenware pottery,
if selfish certainly in a slow way.
Though unfamiliar with this trees Genus
and grasping vague concepts of Botany
I understand our yearly interplay.
To think about the books I read near you
where we gathered as our location,
the facts, as if we shared conversation
in quiet spaces were both of us grew.
Or when your roots were bare in the kitchen,
a family dinner simmered, fresh and hot,
provided steam to wet your earthen pot
you seemed satisfied by your position.
In time you find yourself in deeper soil
were you can finally stand on your own
and offer darker green as your decor.
A branch holds young leaves ready to uncoil
towards a path of sunlight were you’ve grown
to firmly grasp upon Esprit de Corps.
The many levels of a life well lived
so many different places to call home
through miles of virgin forest I once roam
but today I sit quietly until skived.
Only the tree remembers who I was
when I would cook the feast for Holidays
and I would clean our house for all our plays
if asked “why?” I would answer “Just because.”
A simple life of absorbing the light,
to transfer energy from air to leaf,
this spectacular chore from what I see.
I gladly provide water, do what’s right
to part of life that is more than motif,
here we live, dogs, and children, and a tree.