Meena’s recent musings on “her’ guava tree took me back to my early days as an environmental educator. One of our first assignments was to develop a series of worksheets for children which would help to spark curiosity, interest, and appreciation of the natural world. This meant that we ourselves needed to experience what we expected the children to experience. We decided to start small, with a single tree, rather than a forest. The exercise began with our own observations of a single tree.

Over days, as we began to explore the numerous dimensions of a single tree, we got caught up in a fascinating journey of observing, exploring, and discovering. Putting together our notes, and engaging in refreshing discussions, the worksheets and activities for guided observation began to evolve. Preliminary try-outs of these with teachers and students added new dimensions that enriched our own understanding.

One of the unplanned spin-offs from this experience was a poem that I wrote; an attempt to capture the wonderful web of life that a single tree nurtures.

Decades later, the poem about the guava tree evoked many memories, and led me back to these words, penned long ago.

I Am a Tree

I am a tree

so straight and free

all branches and twigs and trunk am i

but i stand alone

bare to the bone

i am a tree

so tall and free

who will come and be with me?

WE are the roots

from us will sprout the shoots

we dig deep and wide

spread out on every side

under the earth we hide

food and water we gather it all

to help the tree stand strong and tall.

WE are the leaves

we dance in the breeze

so many are we, different ones for every tree

some long, some short, some large some small

some yellow, some red, some grow some fall

we cover the branches and twigs like a screen

making a beautiful dress of green

to help the tree to breathe and dine

there’s lots to be done

but for that we need the sun.

WE are the insects

we live on the tree

we crawl, we creep, we hop, we fly

in cracks and hollows, some damp, some dry

we take our fill of fruit and flower

leaf and bark we lay our eggs and spin our webs

if you look hard you’ll see our mark.

WE are the birds of different feathers

we flock to the tree in all kinds of weather

we stitch, or weave, or build our homes

from twigs, on branches, in trunks with holes

we coo, we caw, we chirp, we chatter

we rest, we roost, we flutter, we patter.

WE are the children

we love the tree

in village, in city, town, and country

it gives us shade and fruit for free

it plays with us when we make believe

that we are a squirrel, a hawk, tarzan

up we go on it, one…two…three

look at the world like a monkey.  

A tree i am

so happy and free

so many friends are part of me

they make me a world of colour and sound

we help each other

from sky to ground.

I was a tree

once proud and free

i lived, i grew, i got i gave

some rain i brought, some soil i saved

i was a world for living things.

i am now a stump, just left to dry

cut up for wood. oh, how i cry

a table, a chair, a window, a door, a pencil, a paper, something more

a bonfire has been lit of me.

I that was tree

once tall and free  

While poets continue to wax eloquent about trees, no human can ever create a tree. That is exclusively Nature’s miracle and gift.

Joyce Kilmer reminded us of this in 1913.

   I think that I shall never see

  A poem lovely as a tree.

  Poems are made by fools like me,

  But only God can make a tree.

–Mamata