If I Were A Tree

If I were a tree, I would not measure my worth by how quickly I grew. I would count the birds that trusted my branches, the rain that remembered my name, the quiet that settled beneath my leaves. The wind would visit without asking me to become anything. It would simply say, "Come dance with me for a while." And I would. I would watch people hurry toward tomorrow, while I learned how enough could fit inside one afternoon. The seasons would change me without apologizing. Leaves would fall, buds would return, and neither would mean I had become less myself. Perhaps that is the secret trees have been keeping. To stand still is not to stop living. To be rooted is not to be trapped. To quietly witness the world is sometimes its own kind of adventure. © Melody