Thinking Like a Redwood


Back against a 1000 year old being
I am barely a child.
It is both comforting
And depressing
That I will never be as wise as this redwood.
Sequoia sempervirens
Always alive
We are all immigrants
To this forest
Our roots barely scratching the surface
I imagine my feet sinking deep
Deeper deeper

Is it confining
To have roots so deep?
Or liberating and exhilarating
To have the strength and support
To never stop growing
Up to the sky?

We are all immigrants
Barely children
Writing laws and drawing
Lines in the sand
But slight breeze blows
And we drift
No roots holding legs into the ground
Leaving the redwoods behind as we found them

To know the climate cycles first hand
Stages of succession
Fog comings and goings
Bacteria conquerings and abandonings
To store this wealth
In rings
Constantly expanding rings
To be there always

I cannot touch this! I will never grasp it!
Respect, jealousy, longing.

To think like a redwood.


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