When I die will there be trees,
will there be birds in the branches
and leaves spinning and dancing
in the soft breeze?
Will there be peonies
rising from warm earth,
heads heavy with fragrance
and beauty,
whispering, “look at me”.
And if there are no trees
to dress me in green,
no birds to teach me joy
and no leaves or breeze
to teach me new dance steps,
and no peonies to say, “look at me”,
how will I ever learn
to be attentive.
When I die, will there be trees?
© 2022 Rita Patenaude
Rita Patenaude has lived in many parts of Canada, serving many diverse populations. For many years she served as a university student chaplain She presently resides in Toronto, where she continues to let her light shine.
Rita Patenaude, God bless your and these beautiful poetic thoughts. How wonderful to hear that you are living in Toronto. Thank you for sharing your creative genius. From your Campion College ministry days,
Lynda Browning.
Where is Rita Patenaude?
Welcome Rita, and thank you for this lovely poem! =)
In an evolutionary universe, we humans have a profound relationship with the “more than human” – trees, peonies, and all creation.
Your poignant question, “When I die, will there be trees?” stirs gratitude, hope, and longing in me.
Rita, now after reading your beautiful piece, I am wondering the same thing! After what has seemed to me to be a longer “winter” than usual, I’m still looking for signs of spring here — signs such as budding on trees, and emerging growth in the row of peonies in our garden. Thankfully, many songbirds have arrived!