There is nothing on earth more giving, forgiving and comforting than trees. Mother, Nourisher, and Keeper – trees are our faith in life, the life we breathe, the life we need, and the love we feel.
Parched in Plenty grew out of its own free will, on my barren landscape – the blank canvas.
Today, a dead tree was born in a peaceful forest against the balmy sky. A silent silhouette grew midst hurried strokes of verdant green and turquoise blues.
Though the painting was done now, its seed was sown centuries back. The plumule rose in poise to become my parent, friend, and healer.
Food for my body to refuge to my soul… the tree gave me all that I ever needed. Today, the lone tree stands on the brink of time – tall, stoic and unbowed.
Against the problem of plenty stands this lone tree.
The one who held me for eternity.
Is it alone, desolate or merry?
Alive, half dead, or living within?
Who can tell?