Northof60,

That’s beautiful, and I love the way your delicateness flows around that tree. As I read your words, a few blossomed in my heart. I hope this does not overstep a boundary. Namaste.

Thank you, dear sister,
for such tender attention
flowing around our trunk.

Do not fear or sorrow for these
gnarled, bare limbs,
memories of season’s past.
Given up, let go, released,
as our crown reaches ever skyward
to dance among the stars.

Look close to see
how old and twisted
branches, paths, choices,
on the surface, bare, leafless
are now home for creatures
in need of shelter,
and tell stories of grace and wisdom.

We see your stories,
told in wrinkles, tears, and tales,
but do not mourn your changing.
We celebrate that which you have become,
and that which you have always been…
beauty, gliding through beauty.

Our roots remain deep,
drinking Gaia into our heart
as we stand, smiling,
resolute until our time has passed,
and then, falling to the forest floor,
cycle again as the goddess
into the heartwood of others.