Roots to Sky

On this day I remember a dear old friend. On this day I remembered how sweet friendship be, how friendship can be between me and a tree. This friend is a giant in a very old park. Here I am pictured, me and it's bark.

I've grown quite a lot at the base of this tree. Sat out some storms, grew a few leaves. Used to be often we talked when I walked. Darkness in mind, confusion of thought, made clear in the sun at the base of the oak, when to it I leaned, my troubles I spoke.

The old mighty oak is a powerful force. It took all my carbon, breathed out a new course. Couldn't help me but love the tree and it's forest. Yet not as the blue jay did this joy alight, but like root water flow did Joy in me rise.

Old Oak is so big, mighty and sound, would take two of me fully arms stretched to hug her round.  And even though never was my view from above, here these roots found me the basis of love. Love for another, human or tree, this basis for living took root here in me.