A Cactus is not a Tree

A tree is so transparent

Her ostentatious performances season after season

Year after year after year

Beaming with glory in summer’s full foliage

Bowing in grief and weeping brittle tears in fall

Barren but stoic as frigid winter winds bear down

Hopeful and joyous, new buds emerging as the cycle restarts each spring

And at the end of her life she lies down quietly and

Accepts her fate

You never have to wonder how a tree is feeling, she gives it all away easily

But a cactus is not a tree

Her needles never change or fall

Her color and shape stay constant for decades and

Centuries, our brief lives unable to witness or comprehend

Standing tall and proud, unaffected by mere weather or season or time

The cactus gives nothing away, keeps her cards close and well hidden

Soft, yielding spongy flesh protected fiercely

Cherished and shielded between waxy, hard-walled skin and

Strong bones held upright by deep grasping roots

A cactus remains standing even after death

Refusing to lie down, to succumb

She stands firm and occupies her space

With no explanation and no apology

Copyright 2021, all rights reserved. Image taken from Wikipedia.

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