Arithmetic

She took a simple interest in a stump.

Just a log. A common base of a tree.

I didn’t understand why.

So I asked.

It’s decaying she said.

Yeah so? I asked.

There was life here, growth.

Here, look at the rings inside.

So I did.

"There’s a new one every year" she told me.

"You can see how old it is."

It was just a tree.

"Think about the magnitude of this,

"The power.

"A tree is a home.

"It’s branches expand so far,

"It’s leaves taking in every drop of sunlight.

"The tree is food.

"It’s air.

"It’s life.

"We couldn’t function without."

And she just kept looking at it with that far away gaze,

Like she had the universe in her hands; awestruck, transcendental.

I still didn’t understand.

But I think that’s what I see in her.

Now, read this again with the pitter patter of a light rain in the background.

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