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Oh, the horrors of my life. Are the pleasures worth it? I get to rest eternally watching the seasons roll by from my front row seat. My fire red hair pales then softens to a light green. As time rolls by my mane thickens and darkens in to a deep green until once more brightening. Others pass by and admire my beauty. Some even rest a while, leaning up against me. But what they don't understand are the hardships of my life and my dreams.

I want to dance. To soar, spread my wings and gain just those few more seconds in the air as I fly over the ground. Just to land once more, safely plotted. Yet, that's all it could ever be, and all I could ever hope for. A few moments of resistance and then the plummet. But what if I want to fly? Is there no hope for me? Just because of these obvious limitations does that make me unworthy? I should be grateful for my arms, encompassing my world. My shadow cast upon the ground is a sweet relief to all that pass. Their steps slow as they maneuver over my sprawled legs, for they are grateful for the shade. But there could be so much more. All of the many other realms left untouched. The sky left to the birds and the sea left to the fish. But what of me? Must I accept these restrictions? Rooted to the ground shall I remain forever trapped?

In a dream the walls collapsed around me, sending up the dust of skepticism. Beyond was a field, a plain of rolling grass rippling under the wind's grace. I took one step, then two. Into the field I ran. Faster, faster, and faster I went. The right foot thrust forward and slammed into the soil with a mighty force. And suddenly, I was airborne. The clouds flashed by as my elevation grew. Head over the tree tops the world was a masterpiece placed before me. The wind rustled by again, stirring gravity and waking her from her ignorance. Down I fell, back to the field once more. But at touch I bounded again. Into the air I flew and down I plummeted. The feeling was exhilarating. The rush of the air, the pounding of my heart in my throat.
Yet, I awoke to discover no such joy. My view cast downward to my feet, forever planted.

Why did nature deal me such a cruel card? My lifeless eyes see those who are unappreciative of their movement. One day a pair walked up to me, shivering in joy in the shade of my arms. The filly was of autumn, her reds and oranges sparkling in the filtered light from between my fingers. The colt was of winter, pale snow gathering on his topmost peak. They walk up clutching each others hands, a longing in their eyes. The love penetrated my soul and sent shivers up my unmoving spine. The happiness was so clear, the air so warm, all was at peace and I drifted into a smitten. When suddenly a pain ripped through me. What mischief was this? Coaxing me into a dream-state only to replace it with a nightmare? I felt the attacker stab once more. The pain ripped through me in tendrils. The gentle one cooed in joy. The devious creatures! I offer them the comfort and protection of my arms and they betray me? And with pleasure! I winced as she backed up admiring the handiwork: A crude heart now etched into my stomach. A symbol of love? I wept as they retreated.

Ah, the life of a pacifist. Always to accept the choices of others, never to stand up for my own. Oh how I wish to scream, to be heard. But who would believe they heard me shout. Their heads would wander looking for the source as the rested their soft hands on my rough skin. I'm right here! But what of it. My efforts are futile.

Forever alone.
For always I'll be:
A tree.