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Like a living statue, the age-old tree
stoically stood there—anchored
and silently growing in majestic being.
At the tree trunk’s ground level, stood
a tiny squirrel—the most happiest
of its anchored tenants—manipulating
its prized find with animal dexterity
mimicking that of a seasoned magician.
Suddenly, like an elevator running
straight-up to the top floor,
she swiftly shot up the towering trunk
to the toned leafy hair-like tree top;
There she silently sat herself
within the chameleon-like
camouflage foliage of survival.
After a moment of rested assurance,
the tiny squirrel just as quickly
descended the seeming smooth barked
trunk where she sat—quietly gazing.
Suddenly aware of the liberating
experience between we three, I became
one with nature and her liberating message
to us all—whose ancestors had given all
that we might mutually survive
in that moment of deep consciousness,
I remembered the trying times when we
would cut down trees for sheltered comfort
and kill small squirrels to fill empty stomachs
while some of us filled empty nooses of trees.
Let us not forget how far we have come
and how far we have yet to plow onward
to get where we must and ought to be.
We too, must be squirrely wise as we grow;
scurrying up the triumphant tree of liberty.
