A tree

There was a tree which I once saw as it stood alone in a meadow resting somewhere between the breeze and the sunshine. On a day when my spirits were less than lively I felt a calling. It was my friend the tree. He told me to sit underneath him and for me to rest myself as he did. One might question the validity of this event. One might try and place reason and justifications on it and tell me that I am a madman for believing. Well, I tell you, you who don’t believe me that the tree spoke to me, he did speak. He whispered softly in my ear and from his far off distance I felt his true presence. As I stood alone in my home surrounded by dirty dishes and unpaid bills I felt his branches stroking against my face, brushing my hair aside so he could speak softly and clearly in my ear.

So time passed. Birds moved through the sky, they circled around my new friend and I stood up to walk towards him. He stood far away from me and the journey would take me many hours. When I squinted my eyes I could see him, a hazy statue in a far off sunset and I spent the rest of my day striding towards this end. As the sun began to sink lower into the horizon I felt alone in the most perfect sense of the word. As his branches had done so many hours before the breeze too brushed against my face and the night time wrapped its cool embrace around my fragile and nervous form.

Finally, I arrived at the tree. He told me how glad he was that I had made my pilgrimage, “not many would have done what you have done but I have been watching you for some time now and I knew that you would come.” I didn’t know what to say, all poetry abandoned, my mouth was dry from my travels and my nerves. Since language and reason had escaped me I spent some time in silence walking around the tree, admiring his strong structure. In doing this I could nearly physically see all the years that had created him and I found myself imagining all the times he had stood tall whilst others fell. “May I ask how old you are Tree? It seems to me you have stood here longer than anyone.” But no answer came. Looking up, I noticed a hole in his trunk about half way up the spine. Amongst the silence and the echoes of the evening creeping in I heard myself thinking, “Yes, I shall climb in there. The night is getting colder and I don’t want to leave yet.” I took a foothold and pulled myself up, “You climb well, and I’m glad you have decided to take a look further, you will find comfort here, I can assure you of that.” So I climbed up and eventually found myself inside the cavern of the tree. I fell inside, spiralled towards his bed and sank a far greater distance than I had expected. Once inside and once recovered from my fall I found many things; memories and ideas which I shall not devalue with mere words. I learnt more in those moments than I had ever learnt. Laying at the bottom His voice became deeper and more powerful than I ever could have imagined. “Now, my Acorn, you must wait and one day you will see what I have seen. You will see the frailty of man and the cruelty of nature. You too will suffer like I have done. The harsh winters and burning summers will crack your skin as they have mine. How does it feel to you now, trapped inside your shell? This waiting will teach you much. Believe my words for they are true. You think this a prison now in which you lie. Wait until you are alive. Then you shall see a prison.”