[Day 20]1
This is for the men who live like trees.
Whose roots are anchored deep and stretch far and wide sourcing nourishment in the network and darkness beneath.
Who transmute darkness into life in a wild and unruly celebration of strength, shape and form. With branches that flex, leaves that cast shade and trunks with hollows that become homes.
Who seek nothing in return but the silent communion of shared space. Who bend and can break but return what they take, sacrificing life for renewal with promise to regenerate.
Who sprout and shed guided by the seasons and their weather, who honour the cycles of nature working with her, together.
Who lean into a storm as leaves are torn, welcoming its reckoning and test, as roots are drenched and natural selection weeds out the rest.
As deep as their roots reach is as tall as they become.
There are young ones, old ones and wise ones too. Whose life is often judged by a hardened exterior, but whose whose bark protects rings singing stories, more precious and true. Listen carefully to leaves as they move and branches as they creak, you’ll hear stores saying more than we could ever speak.
Few things are as wild and gnarly or inspire as much awe. Few things are as strong or as vulnerable to the teeth of a saw.
This is for the men who live like trees.
Sharing nourishment with earth while reaching for the sun.
Free to dance and play with the wind.
Cleansed by the rain.
Alchemised and activated by fire.
This post is part of a daily writing challenge where I write a post of at least 300 words every day for the month of April. This is the @my_daily300 challenge which you can participate in and follow via the Instagram link above.