Tree Timeless

Above the house, the tree is a green testament to the nonexistence of time. Within the house, the family lives their lives as if time were real. They sleep, they wake, they eat, they age. But above the house hovers the tree. And the tree knows.

When the woman sits outside, she soaks up the sun and the small, quiet sounds of the unfolding day. Always, her eyes come back to the tree. Up and up its length her gaze travels until the tree alone takes over her entire vision, until the green of its leaves and the blue of the sky behind them are the only two colors remaining in her world. Green and blue. Up and up above. No matter what the day, no matter what the year, the tree has stood beside the house, waiting timelessly. That is when the woman understands that there is more to her life than the daily happenings that she pays so much attention to. There is more to life than the living itself.

Still... I Rise...

When I was a teacher long ago in my life before this life, we read a few Maya Angelou poems each year, scattered here and there. I've always liked the unstoppable persistence expressed in this one:

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

One Morning

The lemonade is tart and cool. While the fountain splashes merrily in the sunshine, she considers the nature of life.

"I think I'm falling in love with him." Her friend's voice crackles through the phone in her hand.

She wishes she had something cheerful to say, something encouraging. She wishes that life wasn't as hard as it is.

"Well," she finally speaks. "he'll probably break your heart in the end. That's the way it usually works out. You just have to ask yourself if the enjoyment will be worth the inevitable pain."

Of course, she worries for her friend. Of course, she does not want to see her hurt and rejected. At the same time, she understands that love is an unstoppable force, and nothing that she could say would protect her friend from the wild ride which she has already begun.

Ah, and what a ride, huh?