The Tree

A seed, planted in darkness and gently, silently, evolving…
A seed, buried under the weight of the Earth, fighting her way to the surface, forcing a way through where there is light and life…
Never pausing, just pacing herself; each day that passes she grows a little more…
Never rushing, just flourishing at the right time; each stage of life until…

She stands mighty, strong, and tall.
She allows her roots to dig deep into the earth over many, many years so she can withstand the violent storms that, inevitably, life will bring.
She allows her arms to stretch upwards and outwards, embracing the sky, to allow every ray of sunshine to feed her soul.

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She doesn’t berate herself for her size, whether she be tall or wide.
She doesnt chastise the deep wrinkles that have set into her surface over time.
She doesn’t despair when the seasons of life have her weeping copper and gold in Autumn and using all her energy to bloom again in Spring.

She trusts her natural cycle. She trusts her connection with life.
She knows the ebbs and flows.
She has withstood the storms and winds.
She has felt the ravaging heat of the midday sun.
She has felt thirst, and she has witnessed the flood.

After all this time, in the abiding of life, she has learned much.

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She delights in her growth.
She is austere in her majesty.
She commands with her age.
She is strong.
She feeds the world with her presence.
She whispers to us in the winds.
She provides the shade in the heat.

Trusting her true nature, being only herself as she was supposed to be, she stands for lifetimes and lifetimes to come.

You, my darling, are She.

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