Mourning The Giant Tree Poem by Susan Williams

The tree always waited for me
at the edge of every new morning
its thick branches of blue-green needles
hiding the mysteries of God's little creatures
the sparrows and the wrens
the finches and the mourning doves
and their nests
but not hiding the presence of all their baby birds
demanding loudly something to eat
and eat right now.
.
It is a fine way to greet the new day
sitting on a rocking chair on the porch
the porch my Father built all by himself
so many years ago...
It is a grand porch to sit upon
morning, afternoon, or evening
rain or shine
because my Father built a strong roof over it
all by himself in the winter of his life
for the love of his life, the beautiful Anna Louise.
.
The day came when the lilac bush
I gave them reached the end of its time
and I came home from college to find it gone
and a baby tree planted in its place
to someday give shade for the love of his life,
the beautiful Anna Louise.
The years passed as years tend to do
and the tree grew taller and wider
and oh so beautiful
for the love of his life,
the peaceful cove of his life,
the beautiful Anna Louise.
.
My children were born and I carried them to visit
their Grands in the shade of that beautiful tall tree
with all its sparrows and wrens chirping and singing
and when the grandkids were old enough to walk
and then to run around and around that giant tree
the mourning doves came flying out of the east
with lovely white tails fanned out as they landed
in the deep shadows of the giant evergreen tree
cooing to each other and making their nests
with the sparrows and finches and wrens
all living in the deep shelter of that tree together
and their descendants came back every spring for forty years
for forty years they came and the giant tree grew bigger and bigger.
.
The years have passed
and so have Mom and Dad
but I still sit in that old rocking chair
upon that old porch
my Dad made for the love of his life,
his gentle high-school sweetheart, his Anna Louise.
And I celebrate their life, he a fireman in his youth
and she a nurse in her middle years,
by creating a container garden on that big porch
of petunias and gardenias and carnivals,
a riot of color and sweet night fragrance
to whisper to them in their new home in the stars.
.
I have bird seed hanging for the birds
under the giant evergreen tree
and a pool of cool clear water
in the bird bath by the porch
and they come to me where I sit on the porch
rocking in my father's prized chair
and they peer at me
cocking their head from one side to another
and when I smile and chuckle low
they fly from the porch railing to the hanging baskets
where they start plucking out the straw to feather
their nests, the thieving little chirpers.
.
Time has passed
as time tends to do
yet I still sit on that old rocking chair
upon that old porch
that my Father the fireman built for his beloved,
the sweet and gentle nurse, Anna Louise
but I no longer bathe my soul in the sight
of that beautiful giant bird-nursery of a tree
it is gone
gone in a blazing inferno
from firecrackers set at its base by teenage boys
for their cruel entertainment
all those years gone in minutes
and all the baby birds burned in their nests
and many of their poor parents
dying trying to protect them
and all of those years and all those memories
wrapped up in the branches of a giant fir tree
burned to ashes gone in a raging tempest of fire
its time on earth passing
as all life on earth passes
leaving nought behind it
not even the memories of a lovelier time
after I too pass
taking all my memories with me.
It will be as if the tree and me
and the love of a man and a woman
never existed
all will be gone
not even shadows will be left.
.
.
~~~~~~~©August 17,2023 by Susan Williams