Pointless

Pointless

If I were a tree, fear should not be
losing my leaves, being seen to my core
by everyone around me.
Why should I fear what happens
over and over again, season after season,
with full knowledge that Spring will come again?

If I were a tree, I probably would be
angry …at myself for succumbing to nature,
at my leaves for not holding on tightly,
embarrassed for being seen without my clothing,
annoyed at the lack of privacy, for everyone would see
what creatures I allowed in my company.

What I should fear if I were a tree;
Absence of animals, trees ablaze, exhaust that chokes,
crackling of singed branches, roaring buzz of chainsaw,
swirling pull of wind, wall of ocean misplaced,
flash of lightning, torrent of rain?
Strangely enough, even for fragile humans,
those tragedies bring calm in crisis.

If I were a tree, it would be
the knowledge of impending loss,
loss of privacy, of freedom that comes from being unseen,
loss of trinkets and treasures to which I cling.
That’s what I would fear.

I wonder if trees understand the difference
between that which they can and can’t control,
if they realize how little they really can.
I wonder if we…no, I…can learn to do the same.

For isn’t it a peculiar paradox?
We fear what we cannot control
while acting fearless
when our lives are truly in peril.

It makes fear a little bit pointless,
doesn’t it? And control of something, someone,
anyone outside of ourselves,
is about as futile as…say…
trying to put a leash on the wind.