I age
I don’t look for anything,
for I cannot see
I smell nothing
I touch dirt and air
I feel my roots and the roots of all redwoods when one tree dies,
all trees feel it
it is hard when time flies
I think about the day that I will die
I have been here all my life
all around me, things live and things die yet, I remain
I grow bigger yet each winter I slip into the void, between life and death
I wake up from my comas and more life comes I am part of the redwoods around me far and near, I know them all
each day I long to move
yet, I cannot
I try to invent a solution
to the ever-coming problem of pollution I love the fresh sea air, rolling off the hills I fear the poachers who want my wood I dream of peace and quiet
and I know the patterns of history