Hi Shimrit, Thank you for your poem. I read it several times – thank you for the wisdom it holds.
Many years ago, I used to stand on the roots of a felled tree to ground myself – to really connect. At that time, I was burned out and on sick leave.
The tree was no longer there – it had been cut down because it was sick. But the remaining roots became my healer. Every day I would come, stand on the sawn-off surface, and connect through those roots, deep, deep into the earth. For a long time, and in silence.
Hi Shimrit, Thank you for your poem. I read it several times – thank you for the wisdom it holds.
Many years ago, I used to stand on the roots of a felled tree to ground myself – to really connect. At that time, I was burned out and on sick leave.
The tree was no longer there – it had been cut down because it was sick. But the remaining roots became my healer. Every day I would come, stand on the sawn-off surface, and connect through those roots, deep, deep into the earth. For a long time, and in silence.
Lisbet
This is so beautiful! Wise words indeed.
Thank you, Annie! And Oak knows 😆
Beautiful. It struck me that there is power in shifting the question from "How old are you?" to "What have you witnessed in your life?".
Reminds me of a haiku I once scribbled on learning from the generosity of trees:
Fruits, wood, shade, and awe -
Many gifts received from trees.
Whose tree will you be?
Ahh Kapil, this haiku is beautiful, thank you for sharing it. I love the invitation, "Whose tree will you be?"