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Now is the time to plant trees.
Skies too cold and dark for new buds;
Gales too tumultuous for tender life;
Earth too depleted and unyielding.
Surely no sapling will take root—but it will.

Now is the time to nurture that which outgrows your care.
	Years of mulching,
	fertilizing,
	watering,
	pruning.
Then suddenly, but slowly, it has become too big to need you.

Now is the time for life that outlasts the fascists of the day.
	Their time is not measured in rings.
	They have no canopy, no understory,
	no eco system.
Drained of ephemeral hatred and power, their flesh becomes food for your roots.

Now is the time to plant something ancient.
	Send a telegram to the future:
		We did not stop STOP	
	A love letter to an unmet neighbor:
		You deserve strength and beauty.
	A statement that life is unconquered:
		It is unconquerable.

While Ozymandian powers pursue their death drive,
while they sow necrotic seeds that do not germinate,
while they try to build by razing and grow by killing,
now–even now–more than ever–plant a tree. 

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