Broken Wood

I broke my left collarbone at age ten

Yet my heart had been already broken

By a tree I fell in love with in June

The year before only to see her gone

To become lifeless chiselled shelves of wood

...

I cried for Saturn even more than I

Did for Jupiter my first plant life love

My parents did not such love understand

How could they being humans above all

I remember pledging my allegiance

To all trees and their little friends below

...

So we can move away and run like dogs

Trees are loyal to the ground they live on

They enrich the soil with their cries for help

We speak of trees falling in the forest

And count our dead in our wars of conquest

What did their tree majesty do to us

That we made all trees our fodder express

...

I hereby declare that God is a tree

And that we have killed God before Nietzsche

He already knew about our plant crimes

Crying for them all in the asylum

Remembering Zarathustra speaking

About God being dead wooden carvings

...

Did I digress too much for your tree taste

Did I forget your beds and closet space

Lest we forget your wooden spoons and noons

Carving wood as if it was just plastic

When it had been their flesh and bones and blood

...

These words made me shiver, especially the last five paragraphs. When a tree falls in the forest, I want to scream all the way to Jupiter and Saturn. Come on, Zeus! Where have you been hiding all these years? Did you kill trees too?