Getting back to good
We started out playing and  absorbing all of the wonders of this world.
What happened? 

Striving to connect

 A poem written by a tree branch

So close
Waiting for that storm, 
That moment of turbulent wind
To push us to each other
For even a second of knowing 
What it feels like to truly be connected to another. 
Maybe when seasons pass
Maybe when more branches sprout
I'll wait...but not without longing. 

A quiet, dreary morning 
I chose to look high above me
Why had I never looked up before? 
There we were 
All along
Intertwined and moving together with the waves of air gliding all through us

And I knew I'd never feel lonely again
All along, I was the whole tree I'd never known. 
And all along, I was focused on the one, wrong, branch.

But now, an eternal now 
Of seasons and storms 
Of dying and regrowing 
I am rooted in all that we are, connected to all that there is,
And there is nothing greater to strive to know.