Doing What Must Be Done

-Doing What Must Be Done-
by
Keaton Foster
(I’ve been wanting to write a poem where what is being done is not so clear, so that the readers can fill in their own reason why?” Enjoy!



You see that tree
The one upon that hill
The one so very much alone
It has a special name
I once gave it to it
It’s a name never spoken
One only to be remembered
Four decades ago
I climbed that very hill
Dug an impossibly deep hole
And threw a sapling inside
I said a prayer for it
And I said one for myself
When I was done
When the tree was planted
I turned my back on it
I have never once returned
Never once considered its fate
Did it grow tall and strong
Or did it die in the cold ground
For the entire sum
Of my impossibly hellish life
I had no idea
Nor did I ever want to know
At least not until today
I stayed away for forty plus years
But something has changed
Something has brought me back
To this place, to this perspective
And there it is, that tree
The one planted by me
The one up on the hill
It has become quite tall
It has become significantly round
Its leafs, many are bright green
Its branches, stretching out
Its take up the whole hill
Everywhere within twenty yards
Is hidden under the shade it provides
It’s an amazing spectacle of life
And overcoming the odds
For a while I stand in awe
Observing every fine detail
The shade, the colors, the structure
Then, as always planned I make my way
Across town and up the hill
Once I am at its base
I do as before
But in complete opposite
I take in the perspective of the tree
On the hill, planted by me
Wow such an amazing view
Such a wondrous spectacle of life
No wonder it survived
No wonder it fought the odds
I understand how it has grown
I can see what it might have been reaching for
When I’m done, when I’ve had enough
I do what I came to do
What I have always been sure I must
The first swing of the axe is hard
Damn near impossible
But every swing after that gets easier
Until finally, I am forced to yell timber
Down it falls, down with everything
It has ever stood for
Since the day that I planted it
As soon as I’m done another
Not one seen to me in decades
Comes running up and screams
What the hell have you done?
Easily I reply, what I had to…


Doing What Must Be Done
Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2013