River Tree
This morning, I heard rivers streaming up and down. Not north to south, but up, towards the sky, and down, into the earth. Large rivers, with currents and violent movement and calm waters, gushing through soft river beddings of sapwood and cambium.
Imagine these giant rivers moving up and down, by osmosis and capillarity, by water and sunlight, by sheer will and evolutionary luck. Rivers of sweet ambrosia and refreshing water, bringing good tidings and joy from their origins to their destinations. Imagine being a tiny insect with wings on your back, and perhaps persistent little claws, allowing you to dig for treasure in this heaven. Imagine the river souring, becoming unpleasant to touch and taste, the tree telling you: not today.