Maple syrup thin and stringy,
Tasting sweet and like cedar,
A fresh and dark, robust
Flavor. It screams, “I’m fresh
And new. I’m from your roots.
I live in the tree. I live in life.
Life. I am life. I sugared even the
Roots of leaves. I am able-bodied,
Strong. Stable and stead-fast –
Like a rock.
Sturdy, durable. Native.
Maple Trees, in Spring’s new –
Freezing nights and windy morning.
Sunshine switch to pouring rain.
“I am syrup, sap, and new. I am blood
Of life. Life of the tree.”