The Harrowed Tree

Hello.  I am a tree.

Day in and day out I sit still, patiently awaiting.  What for?  Why I’m not sure.

Hundreds of years I’ve remained here.  I’ve seen buildings rise and buildings fall.  I’ve watched people from afar, doing things I don’t know what.

Every year my roots dig deeper into this great earth, further cementing my stay here.

One look at me and you wouldn’t know it, but I’ve got many rings inside.

I’ve lost branches, leaves, limbs, and love.  But I am only a tree.

A lonely tree.

Shrubs surround me at a distance.  Too near to ignore, too far to be one.

Time has no meaning to a tree.  The days pass like wind.  For every fleeting moment is just another inch in the dirt.

It’s true I have grown as patient as I have grown tall.  There is not much for a tree to do but to watch and provide.

For I have nested many families, and I have stored many things.

I’ve provided much shade and I have held many swings.

But I hurt and I feel too.  You wouldn’t know it, looking at a tree.

A tall, strong, stoic tree.

A creature that has withstood the test of time.  Or perhaps failed that test.  I don’t remember anymore.

All I know is that my roots are growing weak now, and my branches are growing heavy.

One day I shall topple over and become one with this earth.

Until then, I remain simply a tree.

A patient tree.

-no better than you…or me.