Stressed Out Tree

The dry frigid wind is unwelcome in my face.

This beanie is too big, letting all the cold in

exactly where I didn’t want it.

My dog is psyched.


It hasn’t hit yet.

With a rude gust of air rushing

around and through my body,

I realized.

It’s gone.

The stress, weight, honor, and pressure

of 200 family recipes.

It’s done, finished,

and will probably halfway

please the majority of my family.

I can let go.

The trees dance as I relinquish

my bundle of nerves

in invisible breadcrumbs

on the forest floor.

There is slight groaning as

the stupid wind pushes

the forest further than their stiff bodies want to go.

A loud high pitch rubbing yell

escapes from a tree.

Suddenly I am running through

the forest like a child,

trying to kick the right pine cone

for my dog as I do. (You would think it was made of steak the way she insists on playing with the same one the entire walk)

My ears perk,

I run hither and thither.

It yells out again.

My dog jumps back in alarm,

and I slowly approach the skinny giant.

It, like me, grew up with curves

instead of straight and tall.

It rested it’s head on a nearby tree,

and the wind was trying to force it to break it’s ties.

It yelled out in protest.

I gently laid my hands on the trunk of the nervous giant.

It’s slight movement was perceptible,

as was the vibrations that

traveled down to it’s base.

Life is built out of the subtle things.

What is a forest without

a few trees groaning?

What would this world be

if we didn’t have people to hold us up when we are

bent from stress?

And would any of it be

worth it if it wasn’t true

that every once and a while

there is a moment,

when everything fades,

time gets a little blurry,

and the vibrations of creation

remind us how small we really are.

And that everything depends on us

being able to let go of the small stuff in our lives, and grab on

to the fact that we have a part to play in the big picture.

Thanks little stress out tree,

don’t let that wind break you.


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