What central story is at the core of you, and how do you
share it with the world?
At my core is a vein filled with sap and sugar, lifeblood for the words that grow along these branches. Each leaf is a word that waits to be written, and as I put its shape to paper, it glides gently to the ground.
The central story at the core of me is a story waiting to be written.
I don’t know the ending just yet, I know the names of several characters, I know the protagonist, I know the location.
I see myself standing exactly in the middle between the trees in the picture above. I see my feet taking root and my arms growing strong, I see myself reaching for the sun in summer. I see the rain that will wash me, the ice that will cling to my branches, seeking warmth. I see the colors I will wear in autumn, how fresh and lovely I will look in spring.
I see the expanse of sky above me that makes me feel endless. I see the field around me that offers nourishment to the world. I see the bird that lands on a branch and serenades me every morning.
At night I watch the stars wrestle with eternity. I see my mother, the moon. She sings me lullabyes when I weep and cradles me in her arms when I am weary from all this growing.
At dawn the sun nudges me ever so gently, sends a breeze across my shoulders to wake me.
I begin to whisper. All day long, I whisper my stories to the sky.
And then I stand and I wait, not knowing who will listen.