THE TREE LADY by Diane Valeri

“May  I come in?”

I had been instructed to ask first.

 

Of course, you are welcome!

 

The fragrance of freshly mowed greens greets me.

I have only ten minutes.

 

It was on the advice of the Tree Lady

That I made these plans.

“Talk to the trees,” she had said.

Bazaar but fascinating.

 

First I draw a Focus Card from her deck.

It reads:

Observe the color brown.

All shades and variations.

All textures and sensations.

 

Brown:

Patchy hues on bark and branches

In the grass threaded with straw mulch,

On the fence mixed with shades of gray,

Reflections from a mud puddle,

and one brown leaf,

insistently rattling in the breeze…calling.

 

The single leaf invites me over.

It hangs clambering from the otherwise green canopy

I RSVP to the young maple tree.

 

“May I hug you?” I ask.

Certainly

 

Brushing away the cobwebs, no country girl, I,

incertain if  my bug spray would protect me,

I touch her slender timber,

multi-colored hazel textures, veins of sepia.

 

The pine scent of a neighboring tree blows in,

I sniff again,

feeling foolish-

Both hands rest on her trunk now,

the wind moves through her dabbled umbrella.

 

Like an animated creature,

she moves toward me,

not just a lean

but a root-straining advance,

so like a…step,

I move back,

startled.

 

Collecting my wits,

I touch her wooden base again.

We move to the sway of the fresh cerulean sky.

I feel her aliveness.

 

Maybe the Tree Lady wasn’t exactly crazy, I think.

 

The alarm on my iphone rings.

Time to go.

But

I connected,

with a full heart,

where I  hear her farewell song.

 

Come again, my friend! Come again!