The Gift of Trees
I Am Tree
Roots snake and shimmy through the dark Earth
seeking moisture and nutrients
longing to be filled
with the lushness of Her and all she has to give
Trunk drawing in the gifts and gratitude from roots - like a deep inhale
Strong, weighted, tall, wide, narrow, resilient, supported
by a natural containment that grows
with years of seasoned presence
Encountering forces and energies swirling
Standing like wise witness
Branches extending with the ache of longing,
freedom of expression, vulnerable in their giving
Moving in the wind, dancing with the air
the birds, the squirrels, and insects
Leaves greening with creative expression
Then falling, with rest in quiet contemplation
Returning in service
Bursting forth, yet again, exploding in colorful expression
as warmth arises
How I love to dance, sway, witness, protect, provide, lean and stand in the glory of my uprightness ~ weathering the storms and seasons as they pass.
And then, one day, when it is my time, I die.
My mom shared with me the legacy and love for trees. When I was growing up, I found her captivity and fascination with trees to be somewhat odd, even embarrassing at times. One of those “Mom” things I swore I would never inherit.
Each spring, when the majesty of the Dogwoods came to life among the greening hills, meadows and roadside patches of Missouri’s landscape, Mom would swoon over their bursting white reverence. They would reliably take her breath away, as if perpetually seeing one for the very first time. This became a familiar reminder of the awe that blossoms cyclically with the turning of the seasons, and at the same time, a predictable annoyance that only a mom can bestow upon her child.
Along with the familiar eye roll and inward chuckle, I would inevitably turn toward the tree that captured her breath and take note of the beat my own heart skipped as I would take in their halting beauty. Now that I live in Colorado and don’t have the pleasure of seeing the yearly blossom of the Dogwood, I long for my mom‘s familiar voice and gasp in her breath, honoring the blooming majesty. Like a bride, dressed in her white silk gown, inspiring awe in those witnessing the beauty that emerges when a woman dresses in preparation for union with her Beloved.
After my mom died, we found a photo album that she had quietly filled with pictures of trees with captions below of her words of inspiration each tree invoked. It has become a cherished gift of my Mom’s legacy, and inspires the way I turn to the trees in times of longing for connection.
I, like my mom (the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all), am fascinated and endlessly inspired by the gifts our fellow tree friends offer. My most favorite pastime is to hike in the mountains amidst the trees. I gain an immense amount of resource from the wisdom and resilience that trees embody. For me, they emit a sense of strength and perpetual growth, while standing proudly and humbly in their natural beauty. Their ever-present longing to reach for the sky, while drawing deeply from Earth’s riches creates a majestic embodied presence that invokes the Divine.
I also find refuge in trees’ ability to withstand the forces of nature and the cyclical quality of the seasons. No matter what happens, the standing trees still stand. They weather the forces in all of their forms and harness resilience in the face of it all. The deciduous ones die to their abundance each fall and winter, in order to rest and turn inward, gathering creative energies to blossom all over again when the warmth returns. The evergreens stand strong and proud amidst it all.
I was recently in New York City and visited the 9-11 Ground Zero site. I was deeply moved by the symbolic nature of how the site was memorialized with falling cascades of water into the depths of the earth where the footprint of each twin tower stood. When we were preparing to leave, a docent on duty asked if we had visited “Survivor Tree”. He pointed us in her direction.
When I took in the fullness of her beauty and significance of her presence, I wept openly. This tree was the only tree found standing at the site after the horrific tragedy that showed signs of life. The city parks department had her transported to a nursery where she was tended with great care and eventually replanted in her original location at the memorial site. There is a plaque describing her journey and honoring the testament of her resilience as a living witness to the devastating and tragic events. She now blooms radiantly each spring in honor of life well lived, the losses transpired, the beauty that lives on simultaneously, the creative energies that are inextinguishable, and the great service to life that we are each called to.
Each turn through the wheel of living fuels our capacity for resilience and ignites the embodiment of our inherent soul nature - all in service to our unique expression of becoming, and to the collective at large.
If we listen closely, we can hear the trees whispering their encouragement to grow, grow, grow…
and singing our song.
Photo credit: Jason Tackett
