The Crone Tree

Tree and Bone

The tree was on the edge of a pond in the woods.  It was big and gnarled in a way that caught my attention.  I walked right up to it, as if to introduce myself and there, just above eye level, I saw the breasts.

The tree has two small breasts, close in size, actually, to my own.  The right one sprouted thin red branches and the left had a nipple.  A perfectly round protrusion of bark, in proportion, and right in the center of the  breast.

I was stunned.

I just looked at her for a while, then I leaned my forehead between the breasts, closed my eyes and was still.

As if I somehow knew that this was the way to communicate with the tree, I heard, in my mind, the words…”I am your mother”.  And in my mind, I saw….not just the tree that was talking to me, but the whole woods I was walking in and all the forests everywhere on the earth.

Then I heard …”It doesn’t matter who you were born to. What matters is what you do with your life now.”

And with those words, I saw my past evaporate and all that was left we me, standing in the woods, at that moment.

Today is my birthday, I’m 55 years old.  And I’m thinking of the tree in the woods with the breasts.

The first time I met her, I tried to take a picture of her, but I couldn’t get a good one.  Maybe she doesn’t want her picture taken.

The second time I visited her I saw the ear of corn, as if an offering,  at her roots.

I don’t know where it came from, there aren’t any corn fields too close by.  I imagine an animal, perhaps a raccoon, brought it there and ate it at her feet.

Next time I visit her, I’ll bring my own offering.

Maybe a piece of the handspun wool, my friend Suzy made for me, from my sheep.  I’ll place my forehead between her breasts again, and this time, I’ll tell her what I’m doing with my life now.

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