Stand in the Light
What once was beautiful falls away. Leaves memory in its place and this too, passes. When there is nothing to hold onto, we stop remembering what was and appreciate what is.
“If only” is a land of make-believe. I know, because I lived there. I loved my life of fantasy ~ the reigning monarch no one questioned. Reality was difficult to accommodate. I left it at an early age, in search of greener pastures.
When I came down, I came down hard. I felt my own Self had betrayed me. Alone, dejected, none of it true, I sank into a stultifying silence.
I never mourned my mother. Convinced I didn’t care, enjoying my 11 year old bravado, I was too tough for tears.
This morning, while looking at our cherry tree, I saw the scattered blossoms soggy on the ground and felt an unbearable sadness, for that which can’t remain. The rain continues, and I can’t protect the tree. The blossoms fall away, and what remains is what cannot be changed.
I’ve loved this tree since the moment I first laid eyes on it. I’ve watched it grow and change, and come into its own. I’ve sat in silence beneath its thickening branches, and through the years, I’ve come to know a thing or two about solidity.
It’s not that she’s not been broken. This tree has been plagued by pestilence. Eaten, scourged and gnawed at, she’s lost limbs to what’s devoured her. But out of those horrible places, she has blossomed. I don’t know how or why. I only know it’s true, because I’ve seen them.
I want to be a tree. To sink my roots so deeply it’s impossible to move me. I want to open and reach toward Heaven. Shaken and swayed, when the last of my blossoms have blown away, I want to stand in the light, triumphant.