In 2003 a good friend called, crying. A longtime friend of hers who had been sitting high up in a huge tree in protest of the clear-cutting of some of the last of the Northwest's ancent forests, had fallen to his death. No one knew why, but it appeared that he had unclipped his safety belt. Just a few days before, he had celebrated Thanksgiving with our friend and her family.

 

This event inspired me to write a poem, the first I'd written in years. I am drawn to share this  years later as I find myself feeling ever more touched by the need we all have to care for our only planet and its incredible ecosystems, on which we and all life depend. Trees and forests are, indeed, the lungs of the earth, providing the very oxygen we breathe.

 

The painting is of the ponderosas next to the second floor deck of my parents' beloved "castle" where they spent every summer from 1971 to 2008 just before they passed away. I painted it onsite, as a gift for their home, later inherited.

 

In Memoriam: A Forest Activist

 
Down to the earth he fell,

Through limbs that could not catch,

Through boughs that could not grasp, 

But only wave good bye friend.
Down he fell,

Hundreds of feet down,

Down to the earth.

His ancient home.
From such lofty heights he had ascended,

Released his clip: no one knows why.

Perhaps to better see that bird, 

That tree, 

That grove,

That world

He sought to save.
So recently  here, 

So recently giving thanks,

So normal, so here,

Gone now, gone to the earth,

Gone to the sky,

Gone to the everywhere

Within us all.
He fell home.

Home now.

Let go that clip,

Let go that fear.

Let go that last reserve.

He helped us see,

He let us see

What people do for love.

Here is a hug, friend,

A warm hello,

A sweet goodbye, 

Whether we knew you well 

Or not til now,
Now we see you,

Now we know you,

Now we thank you,

Now we bless you,

Now we send you Home.
To us 

And to this world

You will always be

An angel.

—December, 2003.