Thursday, December 13, 2012
Wind rustles through the leaves of the tree I am able to hold in the palm of my hand.
The roots curl through the fingers of my clenched fists,
clenched around the life blooming at my fingertips.
each twig on the end of every dancing branch stretches toward the sky
like they will never lose hope in reaching those pearly light clouds and sea reflecting sky,
even though they are attached to the branches, molded to the trunk, wrapped and squeezing around my clenching hands, swirled around my body which is held to the depriving dirt.
So much hope for these twigs, although they are so minuscule and seeming so insignificant.
but they keep reaching as if they could defeat gravities hard grasp on all of us and bring us to the sun.
In dreams they float up, up in that sky and swing back down toward the earth in a lovely quick stepped freedom dance.
These dreams don't crush them under despair of never reaching them.
These dreams build their confidence up and they know that although maybe they cant, they can still dream.
They can still see the bright side in everything.
Even the birds beaks pecking, because they just watch the sinking sun and know that some day they will wither from their place but drop in a peaceful harmony, then rest in quiet solitude.
They know no more than us, none of what will happen next. but they are happy, simply to be free, even in dreams.