A transplant from a Michigan nursery,
Now standing tall in a yard without compatriots
With needles anything but sharp,
In fact, rather slender and soft, you grace the landscape,
I wondered how you would adjust
To an Ohio yard,
Overshadowed by imposing maples,
Whose gnarled roots anchor ancient inhabitants.
Your destiny in this yard, your place on earth,
Created for you by a long gone willow
Who continued to make its presence known
By its absence. A concave tombstone made by sinking soil,
Marking roots long gone,
Marking the spot where you should be
To catch the rays of morning light
And bid goodnight to the waning day.
Thriving, growing tall,
Your shadow stretches, chasing an arcing sun.
Branches welcome the sparrow.
Bend with the burden of snow.
Mindful and content, you sing your song,
Your breath from the wind,
Your voice from slender needles,
Whispering an ancient arboreal tale.
David Lymanstall is a teacher, artist and musician. He has taught in classrooms ranging from Montessori Middle School to the college classroom. He enjoys learning himself and likes to ignite that love of learning in others of any age. In his spare time he teaches illustrated journal workshops, plays the fiddle in an Irish session group and enjoys writing science, and nature related poetry that hopefully inspires others to look at the world around them a little closer.