Trees

Having stared down the long, slickening bannister imagining stepping into air, a new friend listened and shared his story which helped turn my pain towards the possibility of understanding. A reprieve from feeling separate, exiled, so terribly alone. The trees helped too. They’ve been here much longer than us. In our eyes and arms, branchings of veins and arteries like trees. Walking amidst great, beautiful trees who have survived right where they are without escape, yet with such grace and seasonally budding possibility, with such generosity. Trees and Mary Oliver, and a compassionate monk from Vietnam who all reminded me how to breathe.