Lady Spruce
She fell from a great height, her body hit the ground.
The earth, cold beneath her, and the air all around.
She lay there and thirsted, her heart slow and still,
She listened to the wood, scared and shaking in the chill.
Small and insignificant, no beast of land or air
Cast an eye toward her nor treated her with care.
A daughter of King Spruce, she lay, the cold earth as her cave.
A child of the winter, she, afraid, was yet brave.
A spark lay within her, a dormant force but strong.
She had a voice to speak with, and soon she’d have a song.
Spring tried to drown her, but she drank it instead.
Roots pulled her up; needles crowned her head.
The earth around her fed her; she stole the sun’s rays,
Withstood the wind, and commanded her days.
Bud on bud, she built her. Branch on branch, she grew.
And now the forest sees her, majestic and blue.
Dear Lady Spruce, Blue Queen of the forest,
Richer than richest, and poorer than poorest,
The humblest of seeds now towering high,
Her tears now a salve, her limbs reach the sky.
She sings out her song, doesn’t mind who may hear
A song about small things: bravery and fear,
A song about how moments all come and go,
And about how a crown can be made out of snow.
