tree of lie

“In this hour, I do not believe that any darkness will endure.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

The wind picks up, and you find yourself wiping sand from your eyes. Looking ahead, a dark gray sky forming around the sunshine that was.

Bending down, to shield,
You notice leaves flying at your feet like crumpled dark feathers, endlessly passing between your legs.

You smell it in the air, a brewing of sorts.
You want to turn away, yet the sight is drawing you in.
The darkness
The crisis
The truth of what is.

Walking the other way is not an option. So you walk and become part of the clouds. disappearing, becoming, allowing it to surround you.

Then you stand, anchor yourself like a 50-year-old oak tree with its roots well established and meshed to the soil.

You know you can ride it out. You know your branches are tenacious. They have the strength of 100 women. Nothing can break you anymore.

So you stay, you wait, and you ride out the storm.

Audaciously, fiercely, and wisely.


“None of us knows what might happen even the next minute, yet still we go forward. Because we trust. Because we have Faith.”
Paulo Coelho, Brida