SEQUOIA

We were nearly your undoing.
You couldn’t know the power
of those striplings at your feet,
armed with stone honed axes
and twelve-foot crosscut saws.

You had no understanding
of sizzling steel cables,
groaning pulley blocks,
agonized chuffing
of donkey engines.

And we didn’t understand,
like the Phoenicians,
thinking you were
part of Earth’s abundance,
ripe for reckless harvesting.

You are aged.
You might have set your roots
when Alexander battled Persians
on the banks of the Granicus.
Your rings: a proxy calendar
of events across millennia.

Now, in contemplation
on where our place is,
we know your presence
is a good thing.
You are a bulwark
against Pacific storms.
You are the lesson
that teaches human endurance.

From "For Love of Trees" ©