Redwoods

Sometimes, I feel like a hundred and twenty year old redwood tree.
I have seen seasons come and go
I have felt a thousand rainfalls flood me
and basked in the sunshine of countless summer days
I have had so many birds nest in my branches
and squirrels skitter among my roots
I have seen children playing, growing, maturing
until they bring to me children of their own

I am no stranger to the humming insects
whose lifetimes are so short
they appear as a short cymbal crash in the rhythm of the forest

but for me?
I am the low humming bassline,
a long bow drawn across a cello's strings
a vibrations that you don't so much hear
as you feel in your core.

I have pulled everything I needed from the earth below me
combined it with the warmth of the sky above me
so that I may stand here, tall and upright
arms like branches outstretched
always straining for something just out of reach

so if you cut open my skin
and a trickle of sap oozes out
you glance in and see rings
circles and layers from the years I have spent in this green world
Don't be surprised
It's just that most times
I feel like a hundred and twenty year old redwood tree.