Awakening, Creativity, life, Mental Health, Nature

I Miss Being a Tree

The rain fell gently all over me, reminding me of the past. It felt cool on my dry faded skin. Then the sun came out from behind the clouds, drying me off. I felt the cold hard concrete holding me in place and a breeze gently passing me. All around me, others just like me, stood like cookie cutter statues all in a row. We all shared the same sadness and longing for home. A home we would never see again.

I tried not to think about my last day there but sometimes i could still hear the sound of the saw cutting through my body. Then that almighty crash as i fell to the ground, surrounded by my friends. I wondered if they had suffered a similar fate to me. I had reached out to those nearest to me when i felt the first blow. My life energy had surged from my roots and into theirs, passing along my strength to help them grow even stronger.

Now i could no longer feed from the earth that had surrounded my roots. I could never again soak up the rain or breathe in the air. My limbs had all been removed so i couldnt offer shade or a home for wildlife anymore. My bark had been stripped away, leaving my trunk exposed. I would no longer grow any closer to the sky. My only purpose now, was to serve as a place for things to be hung. A lifeless ghost of my former green glory. Never to bloom again. 

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