Tree Hugging?

Together we always carry the saw

To cut down our Christmas tree

In the annual ritual of awe

To welcome anew scented glory

How peculiar is this tradition

Of cutting down, dramatically slicing

That which is a sacred rendition

To make our home merry, enticing

Together we always count the rings

Behold, how many years in making

This ten year old, once sapling

Now dressed in our revered decorating

How ingrained in our cultural ways

Of creating, marking of time

Of bringing in the winter holidays

Fir boughs, lights, mints, chimes

Together we always feel the arrival

On aromas, remembered sounds

As if Christmas—a sensory archival

Held dear in sights, flavors, surrounds

How might I reconcile my ambivalence

With slaughtering from forest convoy

Then beloved tree raised in residence

With a resurgence of childhood joy?

Together we always carry the saw

Traipsing around in the thicket

My children wrestle, seek or call it a draw

This year with their agreeable peace,

Its me with louder internal conflict

We love our annual traditions,

We love the trees in the forest

We love our family tree additions

May our branches of tree hugging—

Extending love to all beings—

Divinely manifest