For Kevin on his 75th birthday
The wood from a house built
a hundred years ago is stronger
than what we use today. Rings
cluster tightly in old growth forests;
their density makes them resistant
to disease and decay, in ways that
younger trees cannot replicate.
I read somewhere, in an article
that I have never been able to find again,
that trees can only become strong
when the saplings grow slowly,
sheltered in the shade of the parents
that tower above, patiently watching
as they reach towards the light.
Heartwood is a gift
passed between generations;
born from decades
of protection and connection,
to form a precious, unshakable core.
The magic of those elders grows
with each passing year; they tell
their stories in their rings, where
the live wood expands ever outwards
around the embodied history within.
When I feel impatient with life,
I remind myself: I am not behind,
I am simply forming my heartwood –
stretching upwards, following the model
of the strong branches towering above.
Deeper, stronger, wilder, freer –
it is a journey that lasts a lifetime.
Photo by Oskari Manninen on Unsplash