The black earth that swallowed the acorn, and the seed that died and split open.

The tender sapling that shivered to rise, and the tree that towered above the house to touch the clouds.

The roots that bore deep below the sand and rock, and the verdant leaves that waved with the wind.

The veins that pumped green blood, and the golden scarlet leaf that bled into my palms and pierced my heart.

The barren branches—the bones of winter that held strong. The limbs that crested ceaselessly in all seasons and that proclaimed life forever more.

I am alive. I live! I am the joy of God and man. I see men as trees walking.

Mark 8:4

Bonnie Saul Wilks