How calmly does the fig tree branch

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I'm at a very loose end this morning - desk, for once, clear - so took a moment to stand on the path behind our house. The sunlight through the fig tree was beautiful. The Tennessee Williams poem from Night of the Iguana - the magnum opus of an aged poet confronting his mortality - sprang to mind (see previously How calmly does the orange branch).

How calmly does the olive branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Some time while light obscures the tree
The zenith of its life will be
Gone past forever
And from thence
A second history will commence

A chronicle no longer gold
A bargaining with mist and mold
And finally the broken stem
The plummeting to earth, and then

And intercourse not well designed
For beings of a golden kind
Whose native green must arch above
The earth's obscene corrupting love

And still the ripe fruit and the branch
Observe the sky begin to blanch
Without a cry, without a prayer
With no betrayal of despair

Oh courage! Could you not as well
Select a second place to dwell
Not only in that golden tree
But in the frightened heart of me

- Tennessee Williams