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Writer's pictureAlyssa Dimes

The Tree

Down in the valley, she called out to me, roots outstretched,


attempting to connect


Down in the valley is where the willow trees glow of golden-white light.


She grows.


She whispers through the branches, "Come sit, Come sit." And when I do, she shares her wisdom with me. She carries the memories of my ancestors within her trunk.


Resting my back upon her, I release roots from my body, entangling them with hers. I melt into her, allowing her to connect to every part of me. We are separate yet one.


When I connect, I can see! Futures, past, and present. This new knowing within quells all uncertainty.


Each time I forget, she reminds me what I am.


I am her, and she is me,


I am the light within the tree.



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