The Girl and The Tree

By C.R. Doolan

A tree starts it’s journey in the ground, 

Curled up against cold, damp soil.

Tucked so tightly it fears it may burst, 

And it does.

It cracks around the edges,

And it shoots from the ground.

And though it had felt like it was dying,

It was only being born.

And without bursting, it would have stayed tucked up in soil,

For the rest of it’s endless life,

Instead of simply growing from the ruins.

And then it begins to grow on two different sides.

One side stretches to meet the sun half way,

Growing leaves to shade itself on warmer days.

While the other side burrows and propagates,

Weaving through the world unseen.

A girl once befriended a tree, 

Not quite ancient, but far from young,

But she did not quiver at it’s height,

As she saw only a mirror image of her soul.

How many times had she felt like she was dying,

Only to end up stronger on the other side?

How many times did she crack,

Only to find a reason to live from the ruins?

And she, too, grows towards the sun,

While hiding from it’s rays on harsher days.

She, too, burrows deep inside herself,

And walks around the world feeling unseen.

Nature always finds a way to create balance, 

Maybe this is why the girl and the tree became friends.

Twin souls living different lives,

But made of the same thing.

So the girl climbed the tree,

Who had grown branches to become a home,

A home for anyone who needed it,

The birds, the insects and even the humans.

So the girl made it her home,

And she smiled as she hung from it’s branches,

And laughed as she scaled it’s trunk.

But one day the girl fell.

One wrong step on a infant branch, 

And she watched as browns and greens flashed before her eyes,

BANG!

But the girl didn’t hit in the ground,

No, two branches extending out from it’s trunk caught her instead.

Saving her from the heavier jolt the dirt below would have dealt 

out mercilessly.

But it didn’t matter, the girl still cried.

She cried and she cried.

And she screamed so loudly her lungs ached,

“I am never climbing a tree again!”

And she didn’t.

Not for a while, at least.

She stayed away from it,

Pushed it to the edges of her memory,

Until one day, she stumbled upon it again.

And despite her fall, she still didn’t quiver at it’s height,

Even though it had long continued growing,

In the months after the fall.

But she no longer cared that she fell!

Her scraps and bruises were healed,

And though she had avoided it just the same,

She had long known it wasn’t the trees doing.

And to her surprise the tree greeted her happily,

Tired of the loneliness of only watching from afar.

The heartache of being unable to walk towards her,

Only able to silently and slowly stretch with it’s branches and roots.

Cursed to a life rooted to soil of it’s birthplace, 

Yet destined to grow all the same.

So, the girl smiled at the tree,

And ran a hand along it’s branches in greeting.

Not needing to speak out loud to communicate,

Words are not needed when two souls are speaking. 

And, this time, she climbs up it’s trunk without fear of falling, 

Because, this time, she knows the tree will catch her.

Once again she had cracked,

And once again, she had been reborn.

For you are not born only once in your lifetime,

But as many times as you break,

As many times as you put yourself back together, 

As many times as you choose to believe in hope.

We are nature,

And we are always in balance.

Light will always come in dark times,

As the bad always comes tangled with the good.

We are all worth more than we are told.

We are all capable of bursting and breaking,

As much as we are all capable to grow,

Bloom, and learn!

We just need to slow down,

And listen to the whisperings of a tree. 

Hear as it rustles it’s branches,

Know that it is laughing as the breeze tickles by,

Know that it is enjoying life,

And enjoying the wonders that pass them by,

But never stagnant.

Always growing.

Just know that everything will work out in the end. 

And if you’re happing trouble remembering,

Just befriend a tree,

And watch how they never stop trying to live.

How they never give up trying to grow,

How they can be hacked at and pruned,

And still live on enjoying the sun on their leaves,

The wind in their branches and the moisture in the soil.

Just watch them and know, 

If they can grow after disasters,

So can you.

By C.R. Doolan