The tree was swaying in the wind as if a slow dance was occurring.
It had not a care in the world, a giant among ants, never to leave, never watching, never listening…
Its leaves dance together side by side in the wind and the sun waiting for the time when they can be free but enjoying their time with giants. As the day goes the dance slows as the stars shine for the world to see and the tree and its leaf sway in one motion.
Its branches reach out to fill a canvas of an artist, a symbol of life.
I look at it the same way a man looks at a mountain, wishing to see the world from a different high, wanting to feel a new kind of feeling in the gut.
For me a tree was equal to a mountain, a giant of nature waiting to be conquered.
For the climb is steep and the top looks unreachable, but I climb anyway, watching my every move, the placement of my hands, the steps of my feet.
Its scars make the climb easier, the unseen scars made by those before me, signs of a battle, and marks of a war.
But it cuts both ways as I move and the bark scars me, on my knees, my elbows. I've been cursed, like a moth drawn to a flame, burning.
But I climb on, ignoring the howls of wind they're warning. The climb is long as if the tree is growing faster than I'm climbing.
But I am in shadow, the sun is gone and the leaves are still.
The dark is at its darkest, a warning of the end, of a struggle, of your fight.
I brush the leaves aside to reveal light, piercing down into my eyes as if I were unwelcome. But the pain slowly fades and I look out to see the beauty that the light was protecting.
The blue and white sky overlooks green fields, the air now cool and gentle.
I once again see the leaves dances as the sun shines down on them floating back and forth.
I like the air up here… It smells fresher and cleaner than below.
A world unnoticed, forgotten.
And for a moment it is mine.