Thoughts From A Park
When next you see a tree, find the highest leaf, the one that grows at the very top, that reaches the farthest toward the sky. That leaf, resting high above the ground, had its beginnings in an ancestor who was sunk deep into a hole and covered with dirt.
That ancestor seed was tiny, nothing really, just a small, round, hard thing. But inside she was full of promise. And with each passing day, year, and decade she shot forth her children. One year, only a skinny trunk stood, sickly looking and easily snapped. But it was pushed forth by its mother to emerge from the dirt and reach for the sky. Then more generations were born from the skinny trunk and soon it had grown strong and thick, nourished by its mother's roots and by its children's ability to find the sun.
As each year, decade, and century passed the tree multiplied until its generations became innumerable. Each generation reached a little higher than the last, building on the foundations their ancestors had laid, but stretching themselves in new directions, trying always to get closer to the light.
Even those branches who lost their battle against the wind and rain and bowed their heads back toward the earth, gave birth to new branches with new leaves who sought out the sun, pushing themselves ever higher. And for those branches who were broken by the storm, there was a soft place to land as they fell back to lie with their Grandmother in the soil. There they have helped her nourish all the new generations.
So, when next you see a tree, find the highest leaf, this new addition to an ancient ancestry, and watch it. You will see that from time to time it will tip its face downward to remember where it came from before turning its face once more toward the sun, and the next generation.
A Tanka Poem of Loss
The sun hits the street
Brightest orange on blackest tar
I miss the green leaf
I miss the clean, see-through stream
I'm so far from home
If Genies Were Real
I wish I had more joys and fewer trials.
I wish I knew how to create bliss.
I wish I weren't so fatalistic.
I wish my Dad could live forever and never leave me parentless.
I wish I didn't think morbid, scary thoughts sometimes.
I wish my Mom could be here to see me as a mom.
I wish she could shout down words of encouragement from heaven.
I wish I had a direct line to heaven.
I wish I was more sure about everything under heaven.
I wish I were happy more.
I wish I cried less.
I wish people didn't have the power to hurt me.
I wish I didn't give people the power to hurt me.
I wish I had someone to share my life.
I wish I had a pretty little house with a porch and a garden and shiny windows.
I wish I could be June fucking Cleaver.
I wish I could be perfectly happy as me.
I wish I was healthier.
I wish I was prettier, thinner.
I wish I didn't wish I was prettier, thinner.
I wish I had a million wishes.
Silly Limericks That Mean Nothing (But are fun to read out loud)
There once was a cat with no fur,
So all he could do was say, "brr!"
Till one day he found
some hair on the ground.
Now in his curls he's quite dapper!
There once was a bird named Henri
who found himself stuck up a tree.
He started to cry,
then remembered to fly,
and cried out, "oh silly me!"
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