I think that I shall never see...
Firm and tall
Feeds on the love
Of other nature lovers
Was supported, cultivated
Becoming a tower against the horizon
Waxing green leaves, which it deposits later as gifts,
Among the earth dwellers, it embraced all under its canopy
Time passed and with it grew wisdom and purity of thought
Soon; sweet songs were sung by the tree dwellers, nourishing it abundantly
It was fruitful in return, gladly sharing all its color and splendor with other nature
Suddenly an alto fell in with the soprano pitched songbirds, distracting it immensely
The alto pecked, vibrating the core, with its obsidian bill, drilling, forever drumming,
Night and day, night and day, a steady pecking, of a woodpecker
Singing in a foreign soup song language
That it drained
The tree’s spirit
Trying to shoo it,
The tree branched.
Feverishly it tossed,
Left to right, beating.
Dropping all its fauna
Onto the forest floor.