When two trees surface
into the wrenching winds,
the longing currents and
the undeniable horrors
that cannot be avoided,
these two trees accept
that they will be next to
each other for as long
as forever. They are, it
seems, forced to be
friends. These two trees
grow up. They grow
their leaves, lengthen
their trunks and watch
the other grow with age.
They have a bond. A
forced bond, perhaps,
but nevertheless a
strong one. As close
trees grow, their roots
grow too. And as the roots
grow underground,
undetected, they begin to explore
on their own with no control or
restraint. Sometimes they venture
into the unknown and become
tangled in the other's roots.
Some tangles are difficult to untie.
And as the knot of roots becomes
tighter and tighter, the trees
want nothing more than for it
to be untied. The desperation
for the knot to be untied
brings anger, and from
that anger comes sadness –
we all cherish privacy.
But the agony of exposure
can bring out the worst in us.
And the two trees no longer
have the freedom that they
would have had, if their
closeness had not been
forced upon them. Their
forced friendship could no
longer continue, as the trees
could not grow – nor enjoy
watching each other grow
with themselves.
And they were sad.
