I often find myself feeling envy for the trees
Their roots reach down, deep down into the earth —
Grounding them to one place forever
I crave that security despite not knowing the comfort
I am not rotten into anything
Do not mistake this for loneliness, birds flock from tree to building to tree
Good things can come my way, and they do,
But they may leave as quickly as they come
Yet the trees don’t care
The pine, the oak, the redwood —
None of them mourn when the bluejay takes flights, when the nest empties
Each branch remains strong, no leaves wilt
I envy the power to not wilt when facing loss
When I feel the envy creeping into my heart,
My veins bursting with the heat that accompanies,
I also remind myself that this tree is far older than I
Perhaps it was once an anxious sapling
Maybe when it stood a meek 5 feet and 8 inches,
It worried that it’s roots weren’t deep enough, that it wasn’t strong enough
But it had time
I have time
This tree grew slowly through years of patience
I hope that my emotions grow with me,
That the hot acid of envy stops inhabiting my brain
And it becomes replaced with the slow syrup of understanding
Slow and filling, I wish for my heart to pump me full
I feel strong
I feel grounded
I feel stable
I feel like the tree I envied for so long
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