Writing into Life
There was a tree overlooking the back garden of the house that I used to live in, before this house.
I felt a strong connection with that tree, as its branches extended over the fence into my garden, from the wood where it lived.
Thinking about this tree leads me into thinking about another one of my rules for self-management: establish a good relationship with a stationary (or stationery) supplier.
The tree provided me with a sense of protection, somehow. I know this is really just an invention of my imagination – or at least I think it is – but I liked to think that the tree was looking out for me, as we shared the seasons from one year to the next.
There was a time when I thought I would never leave that house and garden, but I did.
The tree remained but I brought it with me in the form of a poem that I wrote while I was still there. I wrote it from the perspective of the tree.
I, The Tree
It is afternoon
soon to be evening
as I wait for her to return
from the business of her day
I always wait for her
and hope she never goes away
I am reaching, always reaching
into the garden she has tended
for many lonely years
I know that she knows I look out for her
and would love to wipe away her tears
But the fingers of my hands are too hard
bent and curled
The best I can do is to soften her sorrow
with the surprise of spring
and after the cold white of winter
the promise of a green and bright tomorrow
Summer comes
a time I love to share
with her
and the garden
She – stooped –
digging and weeding
me with arms outstretched
in full and joyous glory once again
her in her own way
also feeding
Together we grow
each through our seasons
Every year I provide a carpet for her feet
she thanks me from her heart
I feel
and looks out for me
the Tree
hoping I will never go away
I know
with all the branches of my being
I never will
This morning, in the dog park, while Lydia was enjoying her time off-lead – sniffing and running and chasing – I stood under another tree and did some repetitions of the Qigong ‘Healing Form’ movement. I am continuing to grow, as is the tree.
Glad About 