I once fell in love with a tree. I celebrated its beauty,
dancing among the brilliant colors of gold, green, yellow and red of its
leaves, when the first snowflake fell. I took no note of the gathering gray
clouds. Though I shivered, I ignored the cold. Dancing made my heart beat
faster, adrenaline rush through my veins, and endorphins brought a sense of
euphoria; a semblance of happiness. A snowflake landed on my lashes, melted
from my body heat and ran down my cheek; the first of many tears to follow.
The air grew frigid, the skies
darkened, and I watched as the leaves fell from my beautiful tree, the object
of my desire, the tall glorious symbol of my admiration. Helpless to stop the
winter storm, I became lost in despair, numb because the pain overwhelmed me,
and frozen in fear as a statue. Before the last of my body crystallized into
ice, I watched the last leaf fall, flutter through the air as if carefree, and
come to rest on the cold, hard ground. As it touched the earth, my heart
stopped beating as I entered winter.
The snow fell and its accumulation
slowly buried me with my gaze locked onto my tree, for it no longer bore any
fruit. Surrounding it, stood other lifeless, fruitless, leafless trees, and my
tree reveled in their company. Its bony limbs served as a constant reminder of
the loss of its glorious leaves. Though I knew my tree, it no longer resembled
the beauty it once exuded. My mind’s eye remembered, and a small hope remained
for my tree to return to me. But as the fierce winter winds blew, my fractured
heart became frozen; broken.
Believing the winter would never end,
I finally forced my eyelids closed and the vision of my tree disappeared with
one last icicled tear. I tuned out all feeling, all sound, all senses, and
embraced the darkness; I died inside.
~
A warm wind blew, bringing a soft
musical note with it, disturbing my cold, silent grave. My hearing followed the
sound, though distant, muffled, and strange. Desolation sharpened my senses,
and a desperate need to hear again filled me. Too afraid to open my eyes and
gaze upon my tree, I feared the notes came from it. But it did not, they
resounded all around me. Some came from the left, some from the right, many
from behind, their notes soft, beautiful and full of hope.
I tried to shut them out, but they
kept playing their song, one after another, sometimes blended together and
sometimes all at once. I felt the ice that covered me begin to crackle and
split, and I heard the constant drip, drip, drip below me, adding tempo to the
melody. Then I silently screamed in pain as my heart shuddered and let out the
first beat.
I felt the shards of ice fall away
from my eyes. As fear rushed through me, I opened my statue lids. There stood
my tree, its bare limbs full of new buds, ready to bloom, surrounded by dozens
of others ready to dance before its beauty. My heart skipped a beat at the
possibility of greatness my tree could be, but only one beat. For no longer
could I call it my tree.
Something else grabbed my attention –
a song, a familiar sound, a beautiful melody. My eyes unfocused on the tree and
with great effort, I turned my gaze away, and shook away my icy shell. Flying
all around me fluttered song birds of spring, reveling in the warm sun shining
down upon me. Their harmonies and melodies filled my heart, and for the first
time, after a long winter, with the greeting of the equinox, I smiled.
My song birds called to me, their
music mending me, filling me with new life, and healing the hole of my despair.
I glanced back over my shoulder at the tree and released one last tear. As I
wiped it from my cheek, I turned away, and once again danced.
