Tracy Patrick is the founder/editor of Earth Love poetry magazine; 'the poetry magazine for the environment'. Currently Tracy is helping to raise money for a farewell earth love anthology - earth love the final ascent
You didn't ask
to be born
but here you are
in all the mystery
of your own rebirth
the heart of you
life cleaving to your
by wind and
rain, the dead
in every pillar,
rooks in branches
your name -
if trees have names.
You were old
to me from
of your leaves
teach me to wear
I am a child
swallowing its tongue.
Oh yes, where was I?
That's right, the winter of 938.
The wind snapped its teeth like a trapped wolf
And my branches broke like old human bones -
Six in one night - a blessing really - they might
Have chopped me for firewood.
Would you like a berry?
Go and see your Gran. She bears the fruit.
Though I don't think she'll last much longer.
She nearly did away with the Vicar -
Silly bugger ate the seed. They made a cross
Out of her, cut her to the omphalo.
Christ - that young upstart.
If He only knew what I'd been through.
I didn't ask them to put that church there,
But nobody tells me anything, it's the way
When you're old - prop you up on
Crutches and leave you to die.
And all I ever did was give
Shelter and longbows, well mostly
Longbows - I don't burn well.
Still, never trust a human. They're all on the take -
Every one. But not long now
Till they kill each other off.
So have patience, and don't be nervous,
It shows on your bark.
Luckily it's quiet around these parts,
Root your feet wide and enjoy the sun
And if you hear a chainsaw - fall
Close to their shadows.
black bound hills    sunset
a distance not yet reached    light
tails   opening, shutting of eyelids
moon a round table
transparent glow      of silence