A Trees Heartbeat

I hear its heartbeat
water pumping through its veins
limbs stretching long towards heaven
roots digging deeper and deeper towards hell
bright green leaves breathing in like lungs
roots drinking in thirstily like straws
hard brown bark covers it like a skin hide

it joins the winds in singing an evening lullaby
branches dancing and twirling on a breeze
every day growing stronger, taller, older
for the ancient forest it loves
cultivating a love for all things growing
and a compassion for all things living
it protects the creatures beneath its boughs
providing kind unbiased shelter towards all

I pull my ear away from the warmed bark
and watch as a man approaches
he wears an orange hardhat and tan leather gloves
he stands beneath the trees shade adjusting his radio
the woodland critters eyeing  him curiously
and squirrels and birds chattering a merry welcome tune

then--
nonchalantly he whips out a saw and begins to hack away
wooden chips of skin spewing into the sky
the tree dwellers screech in fear and try to escape
some will perish in their flight
and a hatchlings nest plummets to earth in a plume of feathers

at last the tree’s torso is severed in two
it falls heavily to the ground-- still struggling to breath
its roots  still drinking--
it doesn’t know its dead
the saw's’ motor  snaps off
the man strolls away
whistling a merry tune
I stand there--
and I weep.