A friend once told me that possibly, for every one person,
there is a tree.
A tree that grew with you,
not against you.
Existence throws tiny veiny leaves,
swirling and pushing and pulling.
But this one tree,
Burly and Brawny.
It grows with you,
by which she meant,
with every day, every triumph, or gain
- a twig would sprout
and for every loss, or tribune
- a branch would evolve
for every discovery and rebirth
- a leaf would bloom
and with the dealt of death,
that leaf would fall.
But with every grain of soil that stirs
and for every cloud of dust that forms and sticks to the bark, shows
youve done it.
Limbs may grow old,
stuck frozen in time,
Hurricane winds may be determined and fierce,
striping blossoms from vines,
splitting dried branches from the trunk,
dropping their heavy baggage onto our ground,
onto what ever lies below.
But be strong,
Your Tree will stand.
Even though youll never see it, your tree is out there,
for someone else to notice and gain inspiration from.
Some people believe in guardian angels,
She believed in trees.
When she is gone…
Her tree will die.
When I am gone…
My tree will die.
But when we live…
We must be strong.
Colin Progen 2004/2011
It always amazes me how long winter on the East Coast can last. The harsh cold surrounds the snow up until the bitter end. Then I spend all of April preparing for Spring (and my birthday) and once May comes, I’m ready for the beach. However, my Tiger Lilies come and my Tiger Lilies go. The summer sun flowers arrive but by the end of September, hang their heads in mourning for the farewell wave of Summer's weather. With just a snap of the fingers, Summer has drawn back it's heat, releasing our lungs from its grip and “flu season” bares its crooked teeth around the chilly New England corner. The weather begins to encourage sweatshirts, scarecrows emerge, retail stores set their Halloween candy planograms and pumpkins begin to sprout from their vines. Things start to become festive as the leaves slowly start to change color, from green into deep reds, oranges and yellows. Eventually gourds will be available at every florist, grocery store and market. It's the season of death, yet after hibernation, new life transpires.
As September comes to an end and I start my four-wheeled-journey across our vast country, I say a quiet prayer, for no other month, to be as crazy as September 2011 has been. I'm a big ball of magnetic energy, like when you hold two magnets together. The push and the pull curves up and down, and jolts back to front. Like an invisible rubber dodgeball that is pulsing in midair. I can push people away and I can draw people close. Its seems that people always come into our lives, or leave our presence at the strangest time. I've always believed everything happens for a reason, though that belief has been most recently challenged. I know that I can't lose my faith and I realize, I couldn't be happier that I have reconciled differences this season. I hung my own head in mourning for the grand exit and the memories of the ones I won't be lucky enough to see again but welcomed the ones still here, who mean the most.
I love my family, my cousins are my siblings and I am grateful for everyone who still stands as tall as their trees. Life works in strange ways and I have no idea what the next year has in store for me. I will continue to learn the lessons that life offers and I will grow, much like my tree, which is a Buckeye; more specific to New England, A Horse Chestnut Tree.
With dried cheeks and contained energy, I'm hitting the road now. First stop, New Jersey. See ya'll there!
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