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A tree .. I am


answers: 6
Mar 2, 2012, 06:45am   #
I feel myself a tree sometimes. A tree grown to maturity. The flowers that bloom on a tree such as I am have been coming and going in their season. Some fruit too, of the kind which grows on me. It isn't very sweet, I think, nor much use even after being processed. Yet, here I am, tree-like just as all other trees are. And these things cannot be denied. I am green, with branches wide, covered in foliage and those who come beneath will find its shade.

I do not have much need for tending, I think, for I have survived in arid land with little watering and no special care at all. I have this strange longing to be of use to others, even if it be the very wood I am made of. But I realize, that isn't for me to decide. People find me mostly unsuitable for any purpose to them, and just leave me be.

It doesn't matter I have been telling myself now. Because here I am, and every passing year, I age a little. When i am gone, the bands for each year I lived, would show up clearly. Just like in all other trees were you to cut through them. So, it is all fine - just this one message I would like to leave for you. If you don't like how I look, the texture of my leaves, or the occasional flowers which come, their form or their fragrance. Still, I ask you just leave me be.

Don't pick these flowers to smell them. I haven't any control over them, they will be as they are. They come without my asking, as buds among the leaves, then grow to a fuller bloom - which you don't like you said, and then I let them go as they're ready to fall. I am sorry their smell isn't one you like. I am truly sorry they fell so close to you, for I wasn't meaning to offend. It's just this is where I was planted, and meant to be.

So, now my friend, I wish you adieu.
Mar 3, 2012, 03:48pm   #
I feel myself a tree sometimes I feel myself like the tree , The flowers that bloom on a tree the flower-bloomed tree, such as I am have been coming and going in their I was draged at this season.
Mar 7, 2012, 12:10am   #
Thanks for the comments Thors Hammer. On the clarification .. its meant as .. though 'the tree' concerns them so little..

Thanks again.. its with this sparse moisture that I am able to keep going!
chalumeau  
Mar 7, 2012, 12:40pm   #
I feel myself a tree sometimes. A tree grown to maturity. The flowers that bloom on my tree have been budding and dying in due season. Some fruit grows on me. They aren't very sweet, nor much use, even after being processed. Yet, here I am, a tree--just as other trees are. And it cannot be denied. I am green, with branches wide, covered in foliage, waiting for those who seek shade.

I do not have much need for tending, I think, for I have survived in arid land with little watering and no special care. I have this strange longing to be of use to others, even if it be my very wood. But I realize my usefulness isn't for me to decide. Most people find me useless for any purpose and leave me be.

"It doesn't matter," I have been telling myself. Here I am, and every passing year I age a little. When I am gone, the bands for every year I lived will show up clearly as other trees' bands would were you to cut through them. This one message I would like to leave for you. If you don't like how I look, the texture of my leaves, or the occasional flowers that grow, I implore you still--just leave me be.
Don't pick these flowers to smell them. I haven't any control over them, they will be as they are. They come without my asking, as buds among the leaves grow to a fuller bloom--a bloom you don't like, said you. Let them go when they're ready to fall. I am sorry their smell isn't one you like. I am truly sorry they fell so close to you; I wasn't meaning to offend. It's just this place is where I was planted and meant to be.

So, now my friend, I wish you adieu.

Such a touching little piece. I encourage you to write more--you seem to have a poetic feel for words. Not everyone has this gift.
chalumeau  
Mar 8, 2012, 07:41pm   #
I feel myself a tree today, a trunk grown to maturity. Some fruit grow on me. They aren't very sweet, nor much use, even after being processed. Yet, here I am, a tree--just as other trees are. And it cannot be denied. I am green, with branches wide, covered in foliage, waiting for those who seek shade.

Tending I do not need, I think, as I have survived in arid land and no special care. I have this strange longing to be of use to others, even if it be my very wood. But, I realize my usefulness isn't for me to decide. Most people find me useless for any purpose and leave me be.

"It doesn't matter," I tell myself. Here I am, and every passing year I age a little. When I am gone, the bands for every year I lived will show up clearly as other trees' bands would were you to cut through them. This one message I would like to leave for you. If you don't like how I look, the texture of my leaves, or the occasional flowers that grow, I implore you still--just leave me be.

The flowers that bloom on my tree have been budding and dying in due season. Don't pick these flowers to smell them. I haven't any control over them, they will be as they are. Their arrival comes unasked, families of buds among the leaves growing to a fuller bloom--a bloom you don't like, you say. Let them go when they're ready to fall. I am sorry their smell isn't one you like. I am truly sorry they fell so close to you. It's just this place is where I am planted and meant to be.

So, now my friend, I wish you adieu.

I modified a little more to correct some errors I introduced. (Hands covering my eyes.) I love, "Leave me be." What a great line!



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