To Be a Tree

Reflections on what a tree in my back yard is teaching me about being a teacher.

Oh, to be a tree
I thought as I looked up
At the towering trunk
Reaching up to the blue sky
And then I thought as I looked closer
At the flurry of activity
On every square inch of its bark
If only I, like the tree,
Could be a playground for flourishing life

Oh, to have roots deep enough
That I can be home to
All the little creatures
That nest among
The cracks and crevices
Of my bark
Of my soul

Oh, to be such a
Gracious host
To otherness:
The cobwebs strung from branch to branch
With their spiders busily weaving a home;
The lichens that,
In the safety of my bark
Are able to grow and become;
The ivy that wraps around me
In a grateful hug
As it lives and grows
Upward;
The squirrels for whom I am a jungle gym
Who dash here and there
And make daring leaps from swaying twigs;
The birds who perch in my branches,
Serenading their neighbors;
The woodpeckers who,
Finding nourishment in my trunk,
Forever leave their mark on me.

Oh, to be a home
Where life can flourish
And thrive
And grow
Oh, to invite a thousand lives
To be their truest selves
Because in me
They find space to breathe
To be

Oh, to need not say a word
Because my roots are
Deep enough
My trunk
Strong enough
My presence
Inviting enough
To listen them to life

And I,
I get a front row seat
To their song

One thought on “To Be a Tree

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