Evergreen
I rise.
51 whirls around the sun— I am growing tall. Regrowth survived the most recent burn. Resting, steady and nourished by my roots. Each dawn—getting drunk with light. Needles long and soft— cones on the way. Bark rich, thick, and firm. Scent rising to join the wind. One day I may be cut for Christmas celebration— But first, I will offer my branches to nest near the sky— What new songs will the birds bring this year?



happy birthday friend!!!!