You appear three trees merged above ground growing toward sun and rain.
You have stood a long time.
Mushrooms ring your base and tiny umbrellas sprout from your mossy skin.
You thrive here drinking in swampy goodness collected from the skies.
Your leaves, as human hands spread out, receive gifts from above.
What do you have to tell me about how to be in this life?
I understand how to work with Earth, bend with air,
let limbs and leaves go when necessary.
The network you cannot see below ground bathes my roots, supports my existence.
I stand tall and stand witness.
I shelter any being who comes to rest with me.
I split three ways to serve more beings, feed my core, gather more sunbeams.
Might you never forget to stand your ground even as you sit in front of your computer screen moving your branches across the alphabet lightning quick.
Remember to stand, even as you must sit. Remember the power inside your core. Remember to replenish from your roots, your connection to Earth.
Money does not matter to Earth, except what is destroyed in its name. How is it you spend so much energy tending to it?
Don’t forget to stretch your limbs upward like my leafy palms and celebrate the wind.