I am a tree

though you may not see it, and say what an absurd thing to assert, I am a tree.
these veins that spiral, these bones that frame, this blood and water that keeps me plump, this skin that stretches, and within, a heart that extends through my arms, and reaches down to root my feet into the ground…

though you may deny me, and say, how absurd, look at my seasons- I’ve known many autumns and mourned every winter for the seemingly dying parts of me that floated away like maple seeds twirling in the wind, and as I stood there, passersby not noticing my pensive gaze searching the sky, I reached within and buried myself into my roots, feeding upon the dark, finding nourishment in understanding that I can not stand for very long unless I let go what feels heavy….

though you may not see me, I see you passing by, eyes glazed over and not knowing you too need to let go what feels heavy, and lie down in the dark to understand that seasons come and seasons go…