The Wind and the Tree

That Spring the gnarled and ancient apple tree,Feeling the May wind's kiss, unfurledGreen leaves like flags to greet the sun, and allIts crown grew white with blossom where great beesWith pollen-dusted fur flew day-long flightsTo hive the harvest of the scented boughs.

Now on the Autumn ground the apples lie,And with them soon will mingle in the mouldThe leaves whose edges even now are brownWith death; for deadlier than the keenest axeThe kiss of too much living drove the treeTo greater harvest than its back could bear.

A kissing wind that did not dream its powerA tree that could not feel the limits ofIts all too feeble strength -- by chance the twoCombined. The end their union formed was fruit.But which of us who dreams and feels can sayWhether the end of fruit be life or death?