Ode to a Cedar Tree

sadness at taking down a beloved tree

Oh cedar tree
can you forgive my impiety
I can hardly forgive myself for the sin I have committed against you

for 18 years I counted on you being my sentinel tree
the guardian standing tall between the house and other pines during
the hard lined winds and robust hurricanes
but you grew too close to the house
your branches thickened and lengthened
your possessive roots crossing septic lines
roof and gutter fatigued by your cluttered debris

the arborist came and looked at your mighty stature
at 60 feet tall, the growth would continue for years to come
agreeing that trimming it back so much would kill it slowly
so I signed the death warrant using a signature on an email quote
and so began a 30day guilt twinge fluctuation:
keep it cut it?     keep it cut it?      keep it cut it?
my dreams included angels and arch angels surrounding
your base tugging
my sleep interrupted by branches pleading against the window

then they came for you
with their chainsaws, clippers, ropes and chipper in pure "Khashoggi" style
plotting the murder in premeditation 

I begged them to leave you at least 7 feet tall -
showed them exactly where to cut for a shrine to my cedar,
but could not bear to watch the execution
the noise was screaming through my ears -- piercing my heart

for 2 and ½ hours your agony was mine
that machine taking down the very soul of you  -  
then the noise stopped, but soon started once more -
one worker did not get the message and was cutting back further
attacking the bottom, before the others called him off 

running outside,  the smell of the crime so pungent
bleeding cedar pieces amassed in homage cluttering the ground
I longed to keep every huge stump that was felled
the red heart of it had looked so strong, healthy and vibrant
was now chipped away

tears came immediately to  my eyes as I placed palms flat on your warm ringed stump
the workers should have taken off their hats and covered their hearts, given a eulogy,
they didn’t   

it was shocking to have the sun blaring in great radiation
exposing the crime under a new clear view
blue sky for miles unrepentant 
I had the workers leave the chips in a pile - mulch in remembrance
I stood by the pile fingering the remains holding a handful to my nose
the fragrance of nostalgia of old cedar chests and closets as a child

the owner of the company came and stood next to me
enjoying the fruits of his labors, inhaling the aromatic scent
boasting of his speed and agility, getting the job done neat and quickly
I told him how awful I felt, he said he hated taking down trees like that, but sometimes it was necessary
and as he went to leave, he turned once more and gave his final words of condolence:
could I please give him a good review on Facebook and Google…