The Forest

This is a prose poem I wrote for my family this year as their Christmas gift. I think it speaks to any close relationship, not just family.

....

‘Midst the earth stands a forest of trees. A grove, a clan, a family. Each stalk with its unique cloth of bark, its own voice of rustling leaves, its own markings of unique experience worn with pride, as if to say, "I am my own tree, not like the others, I am me."

Some of these arbors stand tall, marked with age from ...wind, scratches, broken limbs and faded gray flesh where lush brown bark once protected a warm center. Others stand in the shadow of the elders, sometimes looking up in reverence, sometimes away in defiance, always strong with purpose.

Then there are the seedlings, new to the forest, seemingly young and brittle, yet adapting and growing faster than any of those before them. All too easily a year becomes a decade, as if father time has secretly and tiredly let go his grip. The trees young and old look back fondly on those they loved, and heartbroken for those they didn't love enough.

This forest is full of stories. Stories of love, of failure, of mediocrity, of triumph, of simply getting by. Each of these stories has its own foliaged author, yet each story also belongs to the forest collectively. While each tree trunk stands apart - like a single boulder atop a mountain, or an owl stoic and silent in the sky - each trunk remains connected. The roots, the seeds, the soil, the water and the soul of the forest all hold on tightly together 'neath the surface.

Lest the trees forget they are a part of something bigger, life ever-changing reminds them of the invisible bonds that hold strong. A young tree is born into fertile soil, nourished by the roots of those that came before her. And the wooden elders sleep comfortably, knowing that, though limbs may fall, it is their foundation that provides a future.

These words do end, but the forest has a lasting story, in which the trees - sometimes tall and proud looking out across the horizon, sometimes scared and weak, taking respite in another's comforting shade - are all connected. Whether they know it or not, whether they like it or not, they are bound together, and their lives are better for it.