At first, I was blue to see
my green friend no longer free.

He lies now felled by the gale--
His flesh now pale and stale.

I mourned long when I saw him slip.
That was 'til his kin made me hip.

They told me, "Please don't cry,
for, the trees, unlike man, never die.

For, they live on both where you sit and sleep,
in a La-Z-Boy or where dreams flow deep.

They're the table where you wrote your book.
They're the deck, granting a sunset's better look.

They're phone poles bearing our very grids--
watt givers to all men, women, and kids.

They're light bringers to our every screen
and why your favorite stream series was seen.

Though in the wind they bend and sway,
your house frame did no such thing, this day.

They're the stoic pier
in the foggy nights;
they're the sticks who endear
East Asian delights. 
They're every page
anyone's ever read;
They gracefully cream with age,
cementing everything man ever said. 
They produce no body heat,
but they do heat bodies;
Their immortality is complete.

They're your rocking chair
for you to sit and stare
at your heirs play in their shade
while you sip lemonade.

They're the sweet fumes of summer air,
when grills are lit and fatty drips flare.
They've bored the chef's blade
and are NY Strip's rest once made."

They said,
"You see, He didn't fall; he lies,
across a busy stream with pride.

Now, Bear and Fox may pass
without falling in frozen glass.

The forests can now feed their babes,
for His bridging exempts them from the wade.
 
Even shrooms suckle their old stump base. 
When man exits, they're what we encase.

So, my friend, do not grieve. 
Make like a tree, and just leave.

As was in the GOE,
eternal life's in Him and I. 
It's just man, not us, who truly dies.  

📕“Trees Never Die (Poem)” is a piece from my upcoming published anthology, “Return from the Pale Trail: Gifts to Humanity We’ve Been Taught to Forget.” I’m ecstatic to share this wonderful piece of literature with the family. I hope you all enjoy. Until then, feel free to check out my other published materials.