Saturday, November 14, 2009
It's not ready to let go... to find its place amongst the others, strewn across well worn paths, draped over ferns and fallen logs, soggy with November rain. Not prepared to hear itself crunch and crumble underfoot. Not ready to dissolve into a million tiny pieces and become a part of the earth, even if it will enrich the soil and nourish new growth.
It is caught between two universes. No longer bound to the tree, not yet part of the underground. Untethered. Free.
Is it asking for a second chance at life? A different view of the world from a brand new perspective? Is it wishing for a place to catch a few beams of warmth as the sun passes low through the barren wood?
Maybe it wants to be moved by the wind just one more time... to dance into a swirly gust and finally, on its own terms... gracefully accept its fate.