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The Lightning and The Tree
Mar. 29th, 2008 01:06 amFor Sam and Elle
There is the tree.
He stands strong, if not straight. Life and love and loss have twisted its branches into unexpected directions. Destinations. But if the path was unexpected it is no less inhabited, and each bough is full and rich and green. If now yet fully grown up, than grown out as the days present themselves one after the other. The shade beneath it is deep and dark. One can rest there, and be protected. There is safety in his shadowed smile.
Here is where an afternoon can be spent in peace and privacy. Anyone that keeps his company reemerges with center renewed. Watching, ever watching. The tree is constant, and his roots run deep. The ground is marred with the ones that matter most, so near the surface and exposed to the elements. They are like raw wounds, there for all to see. But here is where the sun and the earth and the rain is pulled in. They are both heart and heel. From which he fights and how he is in danger of being defeated. But in his strength and his stance one senses it could only be the first.
The roots continue on, to its brother that lives nearby. It stands the taller, its limbs jutting defiantly to the sky. It leaves one with a desire to climb them. To go higher, and higher still. Yet when you are done, and travel weary? The tree first met is where you will return. For if one is to climb then here is where you will rest. Its lower branches like a bed. You will read there. You will rest. You will smile. Still, the trees are of the same earth and bark and being. One feeds the other, and then back again. You do not know the entire story until you have been with both.
There is the lightning.
When she flares she burns twice as hot as the surface of the sun. It is almost impossible to know when and where she might strike. Even she does not know. It is a dance of power and passion and youth, and when all that collides. There are sparks. The sky is full with them. Once she has visited? You are never the same.
( Read more... )
There is the tree.
He stands strong, if not straight. Life and love and loss have twisted its branches into unexpected directions. Destinations. But if the path was unexpected it is no less inhabited, and each bough is full and rich and green. If now yet fully grown up, than grown out as the days present themselves one after the other. The shade beneath it is deep and dark. One can rest there, and be protected. There is safety in his shadowed smile.
Here is where an afternoon can be spent in peace and privacy. Anyone that keeps his company reemerges with center renewed. Watching, ever watching. The tree is constant, and his roots run deep. The ground is marred with the ones that matter most, so near the surface and exposed to the elements. They are like raw wounds, there for all to see. But here is where the sun and the earth and the rain is pulled in. They are both heart and heel. From which he fights and how he is in danger of being defeated. But in his strength and his stance one senses it could only be the first.
The roots continue on, to its brother that lives nearby. It stands the taller, its limbs jutting defiantly to the sky. It leaves one with a desire to climb them. To go higher, and higher still. Yet when you are done, and travel weary? The tree first met is where you will return. For if one is to climb then here is where you will rest. Its lower branches like a bed. You will read there. You will rest. You will smile. Still, the trees are of the same earth and bark and being. One feeds the other, and then back again. You do not know the entire story until you have been with both.
There is the lightning.
When she flares she burns twice as hot as the surface of the sun. It is almost impossible to know when and where she might strike. Even she does not know. It is a dance of power and passion and youth, and when all that collides. There are sparks. The sky is full with them. Once she has visited? You are never the same.
( Read more... )
