I love trees.
I love them in cemeteries.
I love them when they grow in bunches.
I love them with no leaves, the bones revealing a beauty much deeper than when adorned.
I love it when the petals shower down
I love them when they are in full leaf
And I love the music they make when they fall.
Even after that I love the sounds they make scooting down the street.
Even after that I love the sounds they make scooting down the street.
Most of all I love the way they look from the inside.
They make a secret space where all you can hear is the wind and maybe some birds.
Sounds float up from below.
Everything looks different at that remove, perspective can be regained.
Sometimes the leaves sing to you.
Sometimes they busily rustle amongst themselves, seemingly talking to each other, intent on unknown purposes.
Always they stand watch, ever vigilant, mute witnesses to whatever comes.
Sometimes they whisper to you, sweet nothings like the noises your mother made to you as an infant. You don't have to understand the language to know you're in the presence of an older, wiser, nurturing love. A presence that has seen many things, and endured all.
Sometimes, on lazy days, they make no noise at all, instead bowing their heads, and listening to the music of the raindrops skipping down, down, down,
and falling to the earth with a splash,
content to rest,
sheltering small beings,
who also rest,
within their steadfast branches.
and falling to the earth with a splash,
content to rest,
sheltering small beings,
who also rest,
within their steadfast branches.
The cadence of the drops soon turns into a blanket, covering all with a quiet,
rhythmic lull.
A time out.
A time out of time.
rhythmic lull.
A time out.
A time out of time.
The whole world stills.
As a child I spent a lot of time up trees.
As a mother I often wished I could just climb a tree, attaining a little space for myself to breathe while at the same time keeping an eye (or at least an ear) on my children playing below.
Having the best of both worlds.
Having the best of both worlds.
I always imagined that would be what it was like to be God.
I still am happiest there.
Not that it happens often anymore, but when it does.........
Ah
Awe
Awe
Peace
Quiet
Perspective
Strength
Rest
Connection
Resolve
Resolve
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These are my thoughts, which sometimes drive me crazy and sometimes keep me sane, but are always entertaining. I call this Lace Your Days With Hope because I can't find enough hope to make an entire quilt out of. Stay tuned, and add your own!