I Am A Spruce Tree
The cascading contours of the verdant mountain slope
hold me, an upstanding cone of coniferous jade spruce
with waxy leaves that I turn into needles on the boughs.
When young I stand erect in the shade of the taller trees,
but soon I go up fast to outgrow them under the sun.
Cinnabar glaze I get from the crimson gleam of twilight,
my senses shiver in the winter chill freezing the needles.
The sparkle of joy shines on me in the cheerful night,
when I go for the festival of merriment to a happy home
as a Christmas tree decorated with the sapphire stars.
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