Tell me how it happens,
magnificent one,
who stretches
into the golden light above the creek.
Tell me how you can stand
so full
when under you flows
a rush of water and foam,
rock and debris.
The very water that feeds you
washes away
the earth from your roots.
You grab onto the big boulders
while the soil
full of your food travels on.
Every other tree I can see
greets the earth with a full embrace.
Your tether is tenuous,
yet it must be enough.
What is enough
in this swiftly flowing world?
How much security beneath our feet
do we really need
while we reach for our place
in the sun?
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