‘I am the tree’

An old man takes a walk
through trees in the park.

“I stomp the trees
Even when they say please,
Trample their dreams,
With just my tiny squeeze,
a button that wakes them
From their sleep with a bang.
You see, the goal is power,
No other point.
Power to be,
Power to see,
Power to fly,
Power to multiply.
In this big world today,
For to do anything,
We each need power and
I’ll make sure I’ve got it.”

Suddenly he listens,
A small voice makes a sound.

“But what about the trees?
Where will we play?”

The old man laughed.
“No time for play,
young boy, no time at all.
In this land work and work,
toil and dig up the soil.
It’s money that’s the goal,
Money, power,
Power to be,
Power to see,
Power to fly,
Power to multiply.
Don’t you want to be, young boy?
Have the power to see?
Have the power to fly?
And one day, multiply?”

The young boy sat and thought.
He scratched his head.
”I do” said the boy, “but...”
“But what?” said the old man.
“will we have time to play?”
The boy asked him.

“You won’t want time to play.
You will have everything
That you have ever dreamed.”
He leaned in, his eyes grew wide,
And he whispered,
“All the power in the world.”

The boy followed the man,
And learned a lot from him,
And one day found himself
In an office
Where the trees used to be
As high up as the clouds.
He looked down from his tall
square glass window,
He thought he did have all
The power in the world.
He walked outside,
To where the few trees lived.
He spotted a young boy
Sitting under a tree
Playing games with the leaves.

He asked the boy,
Like he was asked before,
“In this land, work and work,
toil and dig up the soil.
It’s money that’s the goal,
Money, power,
Power to be,
Power to see,
Power to fly,
Power to multiply.
Don’t you want to be, young boy?
Have the power to see?
Have the power to fly?
And one day, multiply?”
He leaned in, his eyes grew wide,
And he whispered,
”All the power in the world.”

“No dad,” the young boy said,
“I want to play in trees.”

The man became confused
And was startled
By his response.
The little boy
found himself as a manIn a gray suit
And a gray tie
Dressed with a sigh
With the power to see
Over the tallest trees
in his grand office space,
With the power to be
In this vast place,
With the power to fly
Over the fastest race,
And power to multiply
His newfound faith.
And he remembered when
He was a boy
Playing under the trees.
His eyes saddened
And he soon realized
That he had lost something,
Something that couldn’t be found.
He sat under the tree
Watching his son’s smile.
He began to remember.

“I had lost something that
Couldn’t be found,
But I somehow
Have found it right
Here in the ground.”

He laughed and played
And then became aware
That he had always had
ability to care,
And he had always had
Power to be,
Power to see,
Power to fly,
And multiply,
Every day, all along.

”What have you found?” asked the boy.
“Something that cannot be lost,
Something that cannot be gained,
It cannot be fought for,
Nor found in fame.
It is my spirit, you see.
I am the tree,
the tree is me.”

Nicole Allegretti
Vernon, NJ

The verse was originally published in Collection of Emotionful Stories (2023, Olympia Publishers)