EXERCISE Different Perspectives - Trees

Discussion in 'REFINING WRITING' started by Cammysnek, Dec 15, 2013.



  1. Trees. Think of the things they must see. Things people do when they think no one is around. Or maybe others are around. The stories they could tell. Only trees can't talk. They don't have feelings. They're barely aware.

    Or are they?

    Your challenge: Be a tree. Witness something significant. Think. Feel. Ponder life. Tell your story. Just remember, never forget, you are a tree.
     
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  2. The clouds are dark, and the rain is falling from the sky. I stand on the ground, as I've always done. I'm on my own. A bit further away there are other trees. Sometimes I wonder if they feel alone, too. They stand still just as I do. I've been here for a long time, it has been many years. I've seen plenty of things over the years.

    It's interesting to see how people change. I enjoy the ones who comes to this place year after year, who I recognize. There are those who comes as children, and when they grow old, they come here, too. If only they would see me the way I see them. Have I changed? I don't know. I'm like a recorder, I record what's going on, I see what's happening. I have it all saved inside of me. The thing is, no one ever presses the play-button.

    Sometimes, people comes by. Humans. Old ones, young ones, and everything between. There are creatures of all ages. They pass me, sometimes they notice me, but for the most part, they don't. I'm used to no one noticing me. Why would they? I'm a tree. How many people have you seen talking to, or in any way interacting, with a tree? I bet it's a rare sight.

    A girl is crying. She sits on a bench, lonely. Sometimes I picture myself as a human, thinking about what I would do. I would walk up to her, hug her. I wonder what it's like to get a hug. I've seen a lot of hugs over the years. I also wonder what it's like to cry. It's like water running down their faces. Is it the same as when it's raining? I wonder what feeling is inside, if there is any, when they cry.

    Watching all these things going on around me, but never being able to be a part of it, bugs me sometimes. I'd do anything to experience what I'm watching each day. But then again, I'm a tree. I must have a meaning being here, too. I've thought of myself as a recorder many times before, and I still do. I wonder if anyone ever will press the play-button. Will they ever see what I see? Will they feel the way I feel, will my feelings and thoughts be theirs for a while?

    A boy walks by. He's in a hurry, it seems. I wonder what makes people so stressed, they always seem to be on the run. Where are they going? What are they running to? I'd like to see if there's more than this, what happens when they disappear out of my sight, when I can't be a visitor, watching a piece of their life any more. Maybe there's nothing more to life than this. There are so many moments that I get to see, watching from the outside. This can't be it.

    There are things I'll never know. There are things you'll never know, either. You're not a tree. I am.
     
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  3. I am Connected, Roots sunken so deep. I stand, solidified into my place. Here, in my place, I exist. I am.

    I extend out, branching towards the sky. Time? I do not understand Time, this word means nothing to me. Many season have ripped through MY place yet I stand, stead fast, alive, Dormant, completely adapted, In my place. Creatures come to climb my wise branches, My existence, not always so solitary. If they weren't climbing my bows they burrowed into me and in me remained in their place

    The in-between, I stay, alive, yet half aware. See, to be aware is to know, that is only half. The other half is being capable of doing something about what you become aware of. I do not have thoughts of my own, yet I live. I cannot rip up my roots nor choose the place I am to be.

    Space is all that I am and I extend into it Expanding like the universe as far as I can, above to the sky, and below through the earth. Eternal and continuous I strive in likeness of the beginning and bare the unwavering acceptance of the 'now'.

    Here and now is all I know, it is all I am aware of. I simply am. Water can drown me. Fire will burn me. The earth can suffocate me. The wind can knock me down.

    If I fall, I do not rise again. I am a tree, Wise and steadfast, Cedar daring to be the redwood. I may not think, I may not talk...but I certainly exsist and in all my existences, I know and stay in my place.
     
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  4. I can bear no fruit yet I have become a witness. I’ve witnessed the creation of love and life you see. I have seen the ends of days and the sprinkling of new days. I have seen so many things that others have turned their back too. I have stood the test of time and won without song, reason or rhyme.

    I’ve stood alone among many and now crowed yet alone. I’ve become crowed by my memories of sight and sound. No matter if they are right or wrong; they are mine and mine alone. No one will ever know. For that is what they all say when they come my way.

    When they linger to close and caress my tender leaves. I feel the soft fingers of time slip thought them as the eves of grace upon a new love. I see the clothes shed and the lips of lovers unleash the rainbows of color that blind even the strongest of our kind. Yes, we stand up to the storms from any and all, big and small. From man and machine to the weather and its nasty temper tantrums. I have stood here for it all.

    Now I say to you if you will only listen to me as I bend and try not to break yet again. Love and hold tight to that which holds you back for if you are to unyielding you might break. Always try to bend before you break, sway with a song and love, learn and always try to be strong enough to bend.
    For I am the Willow Tree, swaying and bending and hoping that time and man will not break me.
     
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