“Pride comes late summer” - Hebrew proverb (paraphrased)
I.
In central park there sits a chestnut tree
Who grows up near a field of shining green
Where picnicers will often come to bask
In sunlight stretched upon the tender grass
They often come with picnics that they packed
Or bring along some money for a snack
The field is a joyous sight to see
Especially if you’re a chestnut tree
The tree watched happy people every day
They came and they enjoyed his blessed shade
For chestnut trees have wide, reflecting leaves
That, catching sunlight, ripple in the breeze
And cast a shadow cool and yet refracting
The glory of the sunlight not subtracting
His wondrous leaves refined the summer joy
And he was glad that he was so employed
The tree believed green branches were a gift
That he could bless the strolling people with
And so he watched the people come and go
Invested in their business down below
The tree felt joy when seeing couples kiss
He thought he was responsible for this
And when a man proposed one afternoon
He fancied he had helped to set the mood
And when the children ventured after school
In heated play this chestnut kept them cool
And oftentimes a biker needing rest
Would lean his bike against the tree and stretch
The momentary shade would make his day
Revived the tree would send him on his way
And so in human love the tree delighted
But also in him animals alighted
Spry squirrels would often scamper up his trunk
And chatter with a loud and frantic spunk
With boldness only city squirrels attempt
For urban rodents have no fear of men
But if a dog came strolling down the path
At once towards nearby trees the squirrels would dash
The chestnut offered refuge in his branches
To hide among his leaves from canine glances
Another time a mighty red tailed hawk
Alighted in the leaves his prey to stalk
He sat unspotted hour after hour
In patient search of something to devour
And this alone could satisfy the tree
But when the giant bird was finally seen
The people pulled out cameras and phones
And wouldn’t leave the special bird alone
Oh how the chestnut grew in pride that day
For hours on end the people looked his way
How many people now would see the tree
When looking through their photo gallery
And celebrate him every time they talked
To friends about the photo of the hawk?
In short, these summer days were full of fun
The tree felt he was loved by everyone
The picnickers, the little boys and girls
The bikers, tourists, lovers, hawks, and squirrels
They all had found a blessing from the tree
And so the chestnut loved his shining leaves
He thought he was a presence quite divine
So glad to be a tree with leaves that shine
He thought “I’m glad that I’m not unreflective
For spreading sunlight is a tree’s objective”
“In fact,” he thought, “there wouldn’t be much worth
In living as a tree upon this Earth
If I were not to have so clear a purpose
I guess a tree that doesn’t shine is worthless.”
II.
This all occurred throughout July and June
The summer made his sense of pride balloon
He thought himself the finest in the park
And didn’t even care that after dark
The city glowed with light he couldn’t share
The buildings were not trees, he didn’t care
“These folks will simply have to wait till dawn
Before they have a tree to gaze upon.”
He thought these things but then one August day
He noticed two old trees across the way
Some distance off he saw two aging cedars
And noticed that he saw no shine in either
The shade beneath the pair was dark and grave
Out of their branches no light could escape
Their leaves were rolled up tightly into spikes
And sticky sap meant no one leaned their bikes
Nor would a loving couple linger there
For needles dropped and scattered everywhere
The trees were tall but seemed to lack all grace
“I'm glad,” he thought, “that I am not like they.
My spreading leaves are perfectly designed
I wouldn’t wish for any other kind.”
But at this thought, a sparrow chanced to fly
Upon a cool breeze swirling in the sky
As if the Maker, through this little bird
Was telling him this thinking was absurd
For with the sparrow came a gust of wind
Which blew a golden leaf off of a limb
The horror struck chestnut watched the symbol fall
And noticed that a gold now covered all
The corners of his leaves were now invaded
With browning yellow altering the shade
No longer green the chestnut held his breath
For in his heartwood he knew what was next
In pride the tree had totally forgotten
What happens to a chestnut tree in autumn
He panicked as he felt the cooling wind
The city knew September once again
As weeks went on the nights were wet and chilled
At least the children came to see him still
But bikers now wore long sleeve shirts and found
They didn’t need his shade to cool them down
And then the day he dreaded came at last
They put up signs which read “keep off the grass”
Now I must add that were you to behold
The autumn hue of fast and flitting gold
You’d think this chestnut’s panic was quite silly
You’d wish he could be seen by all the city
For some trees have a tendency to brown
A slow and lowly fade of winding down
But this bold chestnut’s colors danced and sang
So you would likely scoff now at his pain
But this thought never crossed the chestnut’s mind
His love of gleaming green had made him blind
He saw that winter soon would come to dwell
And all his summer joys would be dispelled
It wasn’t long before with naked limbs
The chestnut sighed and winter settled in.
The gloomy tree now spread out gray and bare
His empty branches stuck up in the air
And this to him was such a deep disgrace
He couldn’t stand to look upon the place
Where once the people had such merry fun
In his mind all those happy days were done
So sick was he just thinking of his loss
It was a month before he looked across
And saw the cedars darkened as before
But now the tree perceived that there was more
They looked as healthy as they’d ever been
For in the winter still their bows were green
The only real green within the park
No longer did their shadows seem so dark
In winter’s gray the cedar tree reminds
The people of the summer left behind
And of the hope that one day we’ll see spring
That winter is a pale and passing thing
The chestnut didn’t think about this fact
He should have stopped to think and then been glad
That now the dirty cedars could be seen
Despite their darker shades of shineless green
For winter serves to balance out the story
That every tree may have a time of glory
But come December as the chestnut watched
All traces of humility were lost
He watched a merry crowd with wire strands
Which merrily they laid upon each r branch
They draped the cedar trees in little lights
Which made them both shine brightly in the night
The lights seemed better even than the sun
The cedars didn’t rely on anyone
This glory was their own and was profound
They shone out in the park to all around
And so the chestnut tree began to pout
“Why should the cedars be the ones to tout
The glory as a public Christmas tree
The people never stopped to honor me
By wrapping me with light all of my own
Just wait until December's early snow
The lights will twinkle down upon the ground
And then reflecting shimmer all around
So that the darkest night will be like day
And cast the winter darkness all away
Cause even if I wait until the spring
To see the blooming life the season brings
I doubt that anyone would ever wrap
A tree like me in light as fine as that
I fear I’ll find the honor goes unshared
I see the glory isn’t mine, it's theirs.”
With that the proud tree hung his branches low
And prayed he may be covered by the snow.
III.
And through the winter then the chestnut waited
Until cold of early March abated
Replaced by warming days and melting breeze
The squirrels awoke the chestnut from his sleep
He saw the summer glory would return
But still he couldn’t shake what he had learned
He watched the cedars far across the lawn
The twinkling of Christmas lights was gone
But still they had their sagging coats of green
And though not shiny always were they seen
“I wish” he thought, “That I could be like them
To hold my leaves forever on my limbs
No longer be a slave unto the season
But hold my leaves in weather warm or freezing
And so that day the chestnut tree resolved
To keep his leaves throughout the coming fall
He couldn’t stop his leaves from turning brown
But he would keep them all from falling down
And so as joyful summer months slipped past
He practiced holding with a solid grasp
And when the swooning lovers lay beneath
He took account of every single leaf
And as the cheerful children sat around
He watched to be sure not oneleaf fell down
And when the bikers stopped to take a drink
He never would rejoice but only think
Of bows and branches he must not ignore
To keep his leaves, unlike the year before
(Now you might ask me, If this tree was big
Enough to offer shade beneath his limbs
Why was he so surprised when autumn came
When other years it would have been the same?
Why was he shocked to see the leaves in fall
If other years he hadn’t cared at all?
He must have known that all the leaves come back
And shouldn’t have been scared to see the lack.
Indeed all this is true, I tell you now
The tree did know, the question then is how
Did he somehow forget this year in question?
The answer I don’t know, but my impression
Is that it must have been the swelling pride
Which lays as sort of veil across your eyes
You see the world unlike it was before
You see your neighbor still but love you more
You think just of your lack, not your excesses
Which doesn’t give you joy, it just depresses
For envy doesn’t seek to balance scales
It hopes you shine out while your neighbor pales
Until the tipping’s only in your favor
Securely yours and sure to never waver
So pride and envy never really help
They mix you up and turn you on yourself
Until you find that all you love is lost
You gain the world but didn’t count the cost
But I digress, let’s get back to our tale
I’ll tell you how the chestnut’s striving failed…)
IV.
This year, September came with quite stealth
To tear away the summer and its wealth
The sparrow led the wind all through the park
The chestnut felt the breeze upon his bark
And tightly taking hold of all his leaves
He stood in calm defiance of the breeze
Which shook his bows and branches top to bottom
But not a single leaf was shaken off him
His summer spent in practice had payed off
His leaves would last, the temperature would drop
And proudly he imagined if his bows
Could keep their normal beauty all year round
Perhaps the crowds, inspired by the sight
Would wrap him in a strand of Christmas lights
And he would shine with light all of his own
With splendor only conifers had known
The tree convinced himself this was his fate
A festive future, he just had to wait
But waiting there he noticed something strange
The fall had come and slowly his leaves changed
But not the way they’d shifted in the past
From green to gold with near translucent flash
The tips every leaf was turning brown
It spread from lower branches up the crown
The slow and sorry fading, dull and mellow
It went from green to brown and skipped the yellow
So as he watched he saw that every day
The shiny brightness of his leaves decayed
Until the leaves he clung to all were dead
And rustled like a migraine in his head
The breeze would blow and still they wouldn’t fall
He had resolved to keep them, after all
But now his vanity was wearing thin
He knew he couldn’t turn them green again
“I’ve got to shake these leaves for now I know
It’s only on bare branches green can grow
But will I? Can I?” Thought the chestnut tree
Or are these now forever part of me?
November saw him trying to release them
To no avail, it made him hate the season
For nothing he could do could loose the leaves
Dejectedly he hung his head and grieved
V.
December came and with it Christmas lights
The chestnut looked and shuddered at the sight
The cedars shone once more adorned by men
While he was darker than he’d ever been
Then winter brought full force in January
An ice storm hit the city, cold and scary
For one whole day the ice winds whipped around
And ripped even secure trees from the ground
The chestnut felt the power of the wind
Which tore through all his branches and his limbs
He felt the pain of cold bottom to top
But still the icy winds refused to stop
His leaves collected heavy coats of ice
He knew he soon would have to pay the price
And soon his leaves were frozen deep in layers
In pain the panicked tree raised up a prayer
That somebody would stop this deadly winter
From breaking off his limbs in frozen splinters
When evening came he felt the storm subside
Though still in pain, the chestnut was alright
But sensed that he bent low from all the weight
Of countless leaves he’d offered up too late
The thick ice clung to every leaf and now
It pulled on him and dragged him towards the ground
He felt the painful strain upon his limbs
It hurt his bark and left him feeling grim
This icy pull was more than he could bear
And so he offered up another prayer:
“I want to be delivered from this burden
I want to know my heartwood hasn’t hardened
I’m willing to accept all pain and hurt
I know today what losing’s really worth
But some spring, down the road, some way, somehow
I pray I may see green upon my bows
And not despise the sunlight as it shines
But know its gifted glory isn’t mine
By grace his glory shines unique in me
For I am but a catalyst I see
And so I ask as from their weight I bend
Remove my leaves that I may shine again!”
And as he prayed this prayer he saw a beam
Of sunlight through the clouds shine on a leaf
And watched ice that coated it refract
It cast the sunlight inward, down and back
And all around the chestnut could be found
Light, shining specks of rainbow on the ground
The day grew brighter and the colors swirled
The snow below reflecting like a pearl
The sun then rose in all its glory up
And cast into the tree its golden love
Which overwhelmed the tree with all the light
That danced among the fractals in his sight
And then, I only wish he could have known
But on that winter day the chestnut shone
The light was bold and radiant and pure
Like nothing central park had seen before
And maybe he was beckoned by the light
But swooping down the hawk came into sight
And gliding to the tree as if invited
He picked a branch and carefully alighted
He sat and watched the beauty of the park
Then suddenly a cracking of the bark
The bow he sat upon violently snapped
The crystals shattered downward with a crash
The hawk let out a cry alarmed and shrill
Then flew away and everything was still
The chestnut tree had splintered into two
His chilly trunk was hurt, he somehow knew
That in the snow beside him lay his crown
With shattered ugly leaves scattered about
He’d lost his leaves and all his branches too
So now there wasn’t anything to do
His pride and envy caused him to hold fast
To blessings which were never meant to last
But feeling missing branches it sunk in
He’d never grow a bright green leaf again
His hopes lay like his branches, cold and shattered
The glory he had sought no longer mattered
For glory is a crude and passing thing
He drifted off and waited for the spring
Epilogue
He woke to feel a hand upon his bark
And looked to see a tender of the park
Spring had arrived or would arrive quite soon
He squinted at the April afternoon
And at the man whose jacket read “parks service”
‘I gotta say, this old tree didn’t deserve this’
Another worker came and asked the man
‘You think we ought to bring the chipper in?’
The first man shook his head and touched the tree
‘His heartwood’s still alive, let’s wait and see,
He may survive the season, I can’t tell
You’ll notice only half his branches fell
The branches that he lost looked to the West
But East is where the sunshine shines the best
Because his Eastern branches are in tact
I reckon we might see his leaves grow back
In other words, survival will be tough
But in the sun he might get life enough
To make it through the season and keep growing
It’s up to him though, there’s no way of knowing.’
The chestnut felt his branches and was glad
To realize how many he still had
The shock of snapping in that winter frost
Had led him to believe they all were lost
But now he saw the ranger was correct
His Eastward branches all had stayed in tact
And also he had started dropping leaves
The brown would not remain he now could see
And as the workers dragged away the limbs
The humbled chestnut sang a joyful hymn
“Praise to the one who bids me rise
And bids me fall and bids me lie
And bids me sing and bids me glow
And brings me high and brings me low
And shows me mercy, grace, and love
And sends his sunshine from above
And prunes my branches and strips my leaves
And gives them back and helps me see
That come what may, be it sunshine or snow
The glory I share in is not my own”