EVERGREEN

The evergreen tree envied
the attention the other trees
received in the spring, the summer,
but especially in the autumn.
Everyone kept talking about
the bright blaze
in the red, orange, yellow colored leaves,
everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

Then they were forgotten
as they lay there on the ground
in their tan brown sameness,
feeling the humiliation that
decaying leaves must feel,
everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

Time changes what we see;
time changes what we talk about.

With November come
quick cold conversations,
after work, after church,
as we run to our cars.

Some stop to spot
the naked branches of November –
especially in late afternoons,
glove less fingers nervously scratching
darkening skies –
quiet, quiet, quieter,
cold, cold, colder.

Then comes December.
Everyone wants indoors.
Okay, there are the shopping
trips to the stores
and the Christmas parties.

Lights, more and more lights,
keep appearing
in windows and trees.

Then, all of a sudden,
it's December 25th.

December is always a rush.

It's evergreen time.
Every Christmas tree says,
“Look at me! I’m lights. I’m ornaments.
I’m tinsel and silver strings. I’m beautiful."

Then, the Christmas tree
says to itself, "Enough of that."
It knows, "It's not about me!"

Then it adds,
"But under me is the place
people put all these gifts
for those they love.
Under me is the space,
where some put the Stable:
the reason for the season."

Then on December 26th or 27th,
Christmas trees start to get nervous.
Every evergreen tree knows
the story of the leaves.
They have around long enough
to know about life and death.
They know they have been cut down
soon to be thrown out.

Yet there is joy.

Like the leaves
they have done their job.

Silent night - day - night -
and then the long wait for spring:
there will be resurrection,
there will be repeat performances.

© Andrew Costello, Reflections, 2007