Poetry, Pine Trees, and We

Yes, I write poetry and believe, as did the Romantics, that nature has much to teach us. So, here, in honor of National Poetry Month, I present one of my poems. The questions and thoughts at the end of each poem represent the responses that I had immediately upon finishing it. (By the way, the catkins are the brown things growing on the branches in the picture. They are the male counterpart to the female cones, I think!)
Blessing the Pines
Now in early spring the pine trees
Bear the evidence of future abundance,
Hope, hope bound in the tawny male catkins
Dotting every terminal branch and twig.
The pines affirm their life, their fate,
Accepting and displaying their past --
Branches missing, boughs bent, trunks divided --
Declaring their future intent --
Central trunk stretching higher,
Rooty nerves digging ever downward, outward to nourish that stretch to
Glory, while grounded and feeding to fuel the propagation --
Reveling in the present, the now, of this green, gleaming spring morning
All under a deep azure sky,
Absorbing the golden glow of the rising sun,
And populated with crow and mockingbird and robin and dove,
Cawing, singing, calling, cooing,
All blessing the Life of the Pines.
Thoughts and Questions
How will I, like the pines, focus on the present to bear some work of benefit while displaying the effects of the past — broken branches, scars, and all imperfections — and while intending future growth?
How cognizant am I of the necessity of being healthily rooted?
What forms and sources of nourishment do I take to fuel all that I am and wish to be?
How do I bless the life of others as the birds in the tree do?
What does my life offer to others, and how does this help me in the realization of self-identity?
How do others bless me, and how do I interact with and accept that blessing?

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