Simply to Exist

I slowly walk through the forest
and feel the soft jade moss
caress my feet as I pass by all
the beauty and wonder that surrounds me,
for today I have a purpose.
Today I capture your essence for all to see.

Pen and pad in hand I approach
the clearing ahead where I know you
will be waiting for me.
You always are.
A stone gray sentinel keeping
watch over your domain.
Branches stretching up to the sky
and bending this way and that at the
slightest breeze.
As if paying homage to some unknown
deity by bowing day after day.

I find a comfortable spot and begin
to sketch your massive frame.
As the hours go on it becomes increasingly
dificult to envision you on
the canvas of my mind.
Constantly in motion you present
a target I fear now I may never reach.
Before I know it the light is waning
and I must make the journey home
my quest unfulfilled.
But I will be back tomorrow
and you will wait for me.
You always do.

I come back for days, then weeks
as I attempt to capture a glimmer of the
majesty that is you.
In the process I come to know all
your hidden secrets. The rotten
branch halfway up your trunk,
the family of squirrels that live in your
outstretched arms. The large male rabbit
that keeps it's stash of food under your
labrynth of roots and moss and leaves.
I feel I know everything there is to
know about you and it is then that my
vision clears and I see you for what you
truly are.

Pen poised in mid stroke I gaze in
awestruck wonder as I realize what it is
I had been trying so hard to capture all along.
As if to confirm this revelation into your soul
you bow ever so slightly toward me
(strange that I feel no breeze).
I take the now complete work from my
pad and admire the dazzling detail
as I see that it captures everything about you.
Nothing is hidden from its unseeing eye
as it lays open all your untold dreams
and goals and aspirations.

In that moment I know what I must do.
As I begin to tear the masterpiece
into the smallest of pieces and
send them fluttering on the breath
of the evening breeze I realize that
the reason I could not understand you at the beginning
is you do not want to become a work of art.
You do not want to be admired by all who
come from distant lands to gaze in wonder at you.
You do not care about fame, nor popularity.
And even though it is all you have ever known
you simply wish to exist.
And as I turn to walk home I know that
that will never be enough.
But somehow it must be.