Memories of The Tree

My tree, I cry for you! For you’re a true mute witness of Time. I admire with your stature that seems to touch Heaven, with your strong branches and leaves History of the world written on. Your glorious shadow contains so many secrets of the Far Past and the Rapidly Vanishing Present that I wish I could stay under it for ever to learn, to realize and to bear in my memory some wisdom. Your roots are so deep that they seem to penetrate into the essence of Earth, somewhere so deep where Eternity and a Day are still together. Whenever we meet you look at me solemnly, inviting to a particular dialogue. As if you wish to reveal me some memories that you mutely bear in your heart. You’re an ancient tree, so I’m certain you have a lot to tell. You know so much about simple things that really make our existence. You whisper something passionately though rustling created by blows of careless wind. You want to communicate and I do my best to learn your language to be able to join this wonderful dialogue of the most precious participant of all the times. My tree. I wonder, why have you suddenly become mine…Whose was this idea: yours or my own? And whether it’s possible if a tree, so ancient and wise, might have a human being as an owner or even a friend. All what I know is that you exist and know the truth. And you protect me no matter how far I might be. And the most exiting is that I’m among your memories too, somewhere in your radiant Soul, covered with a majestic green crown.

Dedicated to my tree. 🙂 

Maria KethuProfumo

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