Dead Branches - May 4 2025

 

Dead Branches

May 4 2025



Dead branches litter the ground.

The towering maples,

pruned

by winter wind

the weight of snow.

By branches

sprouting higher up

that block out the sun.

The new displaces the old,

and even a venerable tree

keeps reinventing itself.

I stoop to pick them up,

bare sticks of brittle wood

scattered on the lawn.

The grass is still brown,

patches of snow

persist in the shadows.

Soon, the grass will green,

the strengthening sun

working its way in

to every dark cranny

and shaded recess.

Endings, as well as beginnings

in the closed loop

of season after season.

A small fire

to dispose of the brush.

The flame is dull

in the bright April sun,

licking fitfully

at the damp bark and sodden tips.

A pall of smoke

chokes the crisp spring air

before the fire heats up

and burns clean and clear.

The needs

of fire and trees

are perfect complements,

one

breathing oxygen in and carbon out,

the other

the opposite.

So the world goes on

as we’ve grown accustomed

and our kind has always known,

simply take as a given

in our brief existence

here on earth.

A closed loop

of give and take

and hidden complexity;

of cycles within cycles

where nothing

is in and of itself.

I think of this fine balance.

Of the beauty of life on earth

as one organic whole.

And of finding our place in it.

A feeling of calm

washes over me

as I watch the fire burn,

spread the ashes

in the garden patch

where my tomatoes will grow.