The Beautiful Treasured Tree

I notice a tree, near to me. I approach,

I notice the swinging leaves glisten like sequins, cascading waterfalls of jade 

The branches draping like curtains.

Warping and twisting forming a mosaic of shadows at my feet.

I can hear the gentle hiss of the wind outside, but do not feel its chill within the protection of the mighty tree

At the base, the bold branches behind me

Making a space

Looking at its bark I notice the wounds of great knowledge, the cracks and scars that came with wisdom.

The sun streams in, making a provisional pattern on the ground in front of me.

This tree speaks to me, sharing its wisdom, its experiences, its dreams.

It talks of the great drought and the violent acts of 1896

It shares how it grew

And what it drew from those tough days.

The calm and serene voice whispers

The leaves over there are much crisper

They always are, on the other side of the Derwent River

This tree is special and kind, it does know, how life goes

The tree, tells me

It’s life.