not tree.

i've changed my mind.

i don't want to be a tree. because today i sat under one while i read about music and drifted in and out of consciousness and i enjoyed the splotchy shade it provided and that the sun poked through to warm bits and pieces of my skin. i let my hand wander back and forth over blades of grass, while people walked past and walked past. faces down, lost in a cigarette or a phone conversation, walk walk walk. oblivious to a simple, old tree. there were no strangers stopping by to share their books, or children giggling and hanging off branches. there we no lights and no rain, nor falling snow to birth wonder.

no, no. to be a tree is to be ignored in its stillness, despite its beauty. to sit idle, rooted deep into the ground, while the world walks and walks and walks on by.

no, i don't want to be a tree. i want to be a human who runs in the rain and moves with the breezes. i want joy to bubble up inside of me as i swing from branches and climb up trunks. i will wake up to the stars and greet the rising sun and listen to the bird's song as it calls to the day. i will be the girl who stares in wonder at simple illumination and it will be my tongue hanging out of my mouth, waiting expectantly for pieces of heaven to fall from the sky.

you can't just walk past and walk past and walk past me without saying a word.
i won't let you.

i just won't.