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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Nature · #985547
life as a tree, a spiritual look.
Each and every living thing, organism, species; all of us, them are here for a reason, some sort of purpose. Our destiny’s only determined because of our outer shells. Some of us are good, some bad, and others are neutral in their existence. I am among the neutral. I am neither good, nor bad; I just am.
My existence here once relaxing, quiet, calm, is no more or less important than any others. I am here, like all others, to keep some semblance of balance in this world. And just as each creature ages, I too will age and relinquish myself to the powers that be. Until that time, I will reminisce about my long youth. I will stand here in this spot, my spot, without faltering. I will stand here and allow the sun to engulf me in its’ warmth as if it were hugging me, holding me, embracing me like a mother with her young. As the warmth wraps around me, my arms outstretched to reach for it, higher, higher, feeling it surround me I feel no more comfort or emotion than I do in a brisk winter’s evening.
I do not sweat like a man, pant like a dog, or seek shade in the cool wet Earth as a worm does. I just stand here and reach my arms above me and embrace the warmth. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months pass by and I continue to stand here, every once in a while listening to the wind whispering the news of the world around me. Feeling it caress my rough, wrinkled, sand paper skin, just as the ocean waves caress a sandy beach. As the wind whispers the stories of the world as it passes, it also brings with it new scents and fragrances ranging from newly blooming wild flowers and fresh cut grass to the pungent odor of an overheating diesel engine. Sometimes as it passes it also brings with it the warning of a storm.
As I hear its gentle whisper of a storm I press my feet in further, rooting myself to the Earth, to ensure that I do not lose this spot, my spot. And as the storms draws nearer I feel the warmth begin to leave me, I feel it slip away like a person trying not to wake their sleeping spouse because they are late for an appointment. As the warmth leaves I become embraced by the cool moisture, and just as the warmth had done, it wraps around me like the clouds cover the sun. I embrace it. I stand here and I embrace it. I keep my arms stretched above my head and I allow it to consume me, for the cool just like the warmth brings me no more comfort or emotion.
It has been this way for nearly a century. I have stood in this spot, my spot. I have watched many things change around me. I have watched many different types of birds build nests on my arms. I have watched their eggs hatch and heard the many sounds of their crying young. I have watched armies of carpenter ants climb across my skin seeking solace from the rain, and I have watched children grow older as their parents fade away. I have watched the slender blades of grass be cut down by man only for it to grow back again. A never ending battle is what it seems to be, a natural cycle of death and rebirth, which seems to have forgotten me.
And even though I see all these things I am never a part of them. I am just here, neutral. I will forever be neutral. I have no hopes of running free. No chance to explore. The only world I get to see, feel, hear, taste, touch, is the one that is brought to me. So I will stand here. In my spot, this spot. My feet will remain firmly planted in the ground, until I am done here. Until I have stood here long enough. Until the day when Zeus feels that my time in purgatory is over and I can rejoin the world that I long to be part of. Until I can finally be free. Some day I will not be among the neutral, I will, I hope, be able to choose. I hope for a new outer shell. To be reborn as anything but what I am, to become important. All of these things I wish for. In the meantime, I will wait. I will stand here in this spot, my spot. I will not move. I will not falter as the news of the world is brought to me and I do not get to actively participate.

© Copyright 2005 Blair-Charles (destinysdragon at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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