The limbs of the tree are broken in three places.
Fractured with the wear and tear of the elements.
The wind, the snow and the rain-
such is the fickle nature of the seasons.
This tree has seen better days,
when it was young and wild and prepared for the craziness.
Today as I walk past it I see the battle scars.
The jagged cuts within the skins surface,
Causing shapes and patterns to immerge.
There are liver spots and blemishes,
Deep dark flesh, oozing sap through raw and open wounds.
Yet in it’s vulnerability there is strength.
Each ring makes it stronger and more solid now,
Each surface a glimpse of the many lives lived in between.
Week 8. Resiliency
As I walked through the woods the other day I noticed how the trees, silhouetted by the white snow, made all the details in the bark much more visible. I thought of how we seem to notice our imperfections with same scrutiny. But each mark is a unique symbol of our struggles, every detail the difficulties we have lived through. Trees have always been a symbol of resiliency. Maybe trees can show us to look at our scared and imperfect bodies with compassion and acceptance. To know that the hardship we endure only makes our roots that much stronger.