I contain the gift of life
And I love to sit in quiet contemplation
With my hand pressing towards my heart
Feeling my chest rise and fall
Rise and fall
Cherishing the wonder of the blood
Rushing beneath my skin
And knowing that this
This is what it feels like to be alive.
But what if I were a tree?
A tree is alive without a heartbeat
Alive without a pulse
But the life of a tree
Just like that in me
Has a purpose
A glow
A song.
When I was young
We would go to visit
My father’s father’s father
Every week after church
As a family.
In his yard
Were fruit trees
And even now I fondly recall
How we would go out
And pick oranges to bring home.
If I were a tree
I could be an orange tree
And I could share and give
And I would be happy
Because
With every fruit picked
In its place would be hung a memory
Shared
And as time passed
My boughs would hang low
Laden with countless moments
Worn proud
Like the medals of decorated soldier.
If I were a tree
I could be a redwood tree
Growing tall and proud
Standing witness to generation
After generation
Reaching up to the heavens
Brushing against the fingers
That God extends to touch His creation
And from my perch
I could look out over the land
And the people
And the generations
And be at peace.
If I were a tree
I could be a mustard tree
And slowly but surely
Grow
Bigger and stronger
Into a haven for many species
And I would witness firsthand
The power described
In the parable of the mustard seed
And hopefully
I could share that powerful message
With countless witnesses
And maybe even convert a heart
A heart buried deep within the chest
Of another living being
A human
With a heart
Beating
Who has been given the gift of life
Just
Like
Me.
They will never be a tree
But maybe
They would look at me and imagine
As their own heart
Hammers out a rhythm within their ribcage
‘What if I were a tree?’
