Field Guide

Trees, like insects,
belong to a secret order.
They don’t send invitations,
but you get in anyway.

Plants, like trees,
are scattered, distant cousins.
They don’t talk to each other,
but somehow, they agree on what to do.

Moisture, sunlight, soil—
ingredients for things
that you don’t see growing
until they’re right up in your face.

A seed, brief and fragile,
wants only to be a tree,
but on a mountaintop’s edge
it’s just trying to survive,
with a crack for a home.

Look around.
Some species find a way,
even in places where everything else
is trying to leave.

The understory doesn’t care
for the sun, and the bonsai
doesn’t care if you cut it back.
Both get what they need—
for reasons you’ll never understand.

Everything has its terms.
Everything is shaped,
yet the trees continue,
as though it doesn’t matter.