A Tree

Who in his right mind would shake his fist at a tree and cry, ‘You foolish piece of wood! Why did you begin to yellow your leaves while it is only autumn! Why are your branches not straight! Why are you growing so oddly and asymmetrically!’ Who among us would treat a tree with such a folly? Yet, we treat humans all the same, including ourselves; the egocentric would incorporate all sorts of means to acquire a false sense of power through correcting people or even dictatorship – the insecure only yearns to obtain a sensation of self-worthiness often at the cost of belittling others. We are able to embrace a tree and nurture it, yet we fail to see the human nature, let alone embrace it; the human nature is that of a stray dog’s: some bark, some bite, and some would smile, though they all share one thing in common: if you you gaze into their eyes, you might be able to catch a glimpse of what lies beyond the skin of all things – I learnt a great deal from stray dogs the stories of which shall remain private for the time being, but I hope one day I will be able to write about how I accidentally discovered humans in a dog’s eyes.

One day during a walk in a park, I saw many young trees that were slightly bent by the force of the wind, and no one was there to criticise them; I wondered, was the wind a cause or an effect? if the trees had a choice, what would they choose? It appeared that the trees had no choice but to obey the wind, otherwise they would break, and as they grow longer roots and thicker trunks, they find the strength to withstand the wind more easily.

However, the wind is a tree’s longing as a woman’s hair longs for a loving hand – a tree enjoys the wind’s teasing, and the wind adores to hear its sound by blowing through the leaves; the wind and the trees sing and dance with one another as two naked bodies love to sense each other; and as a tree grows old, it becomes more patient for the wind’s arrival.

And thus, you, my dear reader, are a tree that must break, bend, and dance with the wind.