The Life of a Tree

Wind blowing ever so gently against my rugged, brown skin. Leaves swaying back and forth with no true direction in their nature. The sun gleaming brightly throughout the sky, providing both nutrients and life to my outer most parts, all the way to my inner core. Not truly understanding my purpose nor my process in life. Constricted by roots of solitude, I could not be released from my place, but only cut down for uses I could not comprehend.

Days, months, seasons, and years pass by with good companions by my side, but yet as time cuts down, so do my companions. Friends disappear and my age increases with every passing year, yet still the same question remains, “what is my purpose?” I ask myself with sigh of frustration. But I say to myself, time can only tell, for my purpose maybe to important, too complex to understand right now.

After sometime, I stand alone, with no one by my side and all I can do is moan. As my age increases up the scale, I begin to ask a different question, one that only brings fear, but reality, “when is it my time to be cut down?”

Scary as it may seem, I began to understand my purpose, a purpose different from others, a purpose to provide and to watch. All the years, all the questions, all the watching time pass me by; I finally understand my purpose.

I may be stuck in one place, stuck in deep roots of truth, but the spot I stand is forever proof that I was here and I had a purpose.

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