I wonder what it feels like to be a tree; a giant oak or some solid tree of some sort. I wonder how it would feel to be planted firmly within the ground, imprisoned by that which keeps me alive. I wonder so many things when I see a tree, and I wish it could speak and give me the answers I seek.
I wonder does it mourn the passing of time. Does it ever feel sad to see the world moving on while it stays fixed to the ground? I wonder if it finds solace in growing in length and in strength, or if the pain of staying is too great for relief?
I wonder if jealousy ever touches its heart. I wonder how it feels when it sees creatures of all kinds walking past; does it hurt that they can choose where to rest when it had no choice at all?
I wonder does it fear nature's wrath. Does it ever feel bound and helpless when nature strikes and it must stay and take it in stillness? Does it hurt when hail breaks its branches and it can't so much as shed a tear, does it hurt when lightning strikes it and it can't so much as let out a scream?
Are you afraid, tree? Are you hurt? Are you sad? Are you crying inside? Are those whimpers I hear or are they truly the rustling of leaves? Are you as strong and proud as you seem, or are you dying inside? Are you truly a shelter for all or do you need to be sheltered as well?
Tell me your secrets, please, tell me how you survive. Patience? Is that the key? Then please, my dearest tree, lend me some for I know exactly how you feel.
I wonder does it mourn the passing of time. Does it ever feel sad to see the world moving on while it stays fixed to the ground? I wonder if it finds solace in growing in length and in strength, or if the pain of staying is too great for relief?
I wonder if jealousy ever touches its heart. I wonder how it feels when it sees creatures of all kinds walking past; does it hurt that they can choose where to rest when it had no choice at all?
I wonder does it fear nature's wrath. Does it ever feel bound and helpless when nature strikes and it must stay and take it in stillness? Does it hurt when hail breaks its branches and it can't so much as shed a tear, does it hurt when lightning strikes it and it can't so much as let out a scream?
Are you afraid, tree? Are you hurt? Are you sad? Are you crying inside? Are those whimpers I hear or are they truly the rustling of leaves? Are you as strong and proud as you seem, or are you dying inside? Are you truly a shelter for all or do you need to be sheltered as well?
Tell me your secrets, please, tell me how you survive. Patience? Is that the key? Then please, my dearest tree, lend me some for I know exactly how you feel.
No comments:
Post a Comment