The Tales Of The Sleepless Oak

Shelter from the storm The Acorn Sower 

 The oak was standing proudly in the middle of a slant uphill, surrounded by a green and shiny carpet of grass just looking like a giant stronghold to keep the mount above from falling down. I had just started to walk inside the narrow boulevard flanking the stream to get a better view of the valley, having sometime to spend by myself before heading back to the dining room at the hotel.

Often, by walking amid trees, I was attracted by the all different shapes and “technologies” that plants use to spread their seeds around. All kinds of marvellous and ingenious methods and different structures and I have always been compelled to pick some of the seeds from places were they could never have the chance to grow and take them to some other easier ground afar so to help them to become a tree.   

Trees are friendly, protect us and many other kind of animals from the summer’s heath, whereas they appease the frozen air in winter.
But it was not just for gratitude to that tree, more than thinking that if I could have done something good for another living being with just a little effort on my part, why miss that chance? People pick flowers or branches with gems and put them in vases to garnish a table where soon after they get rotten, children tear off branches for a stick or for no reason or just not caring about, thus ignoring totally that plants too are living beings.

While I was wondering  in my mind with similar thoughts, I realised that it was time for me to turn back, so I picked up a couple of more acorns from the ground filling my pockets, having in mind to drop them elsewhere later, but at the moment I was turning back toward the hotel, suddenly I felt driven to look at the leafy crown of the oak, up above my head, wandering what made it to grow so strong and beautiful in its dark dress of leaves. What had been the power, the impulse, the energy that gave it so much life and the ability to throw its seeds around like bullets forerun by a sharp crack and far away from itself.

But it was getting late and actually it was like the weather was rapidly changing, clouds over my head were gathering and clumping on each other, the smell of rain and ozone was spreading in the air and I thought would have been better to head to the hotel soon, before some hard rain would catch me on the way back. 

Then, at one point and without even realising it, I started to mentally feel some strange vibes coming from where the oak was. Suddenly, I felt a shiver going trough my back and all the leaves of the crown were trembling and a cold wind raised slashing swiftly through the place and each one of the leaves seemed like a whisper of a fluid melody of words. It was like hearing words in music that strangely I was able to decipher and those words sounded like a warning: -“ Like the most of you humans, what your eyes can see is just the shape of things and not the essence. Don’t you hear the storm approaching? Like so many times before, but it may be harsher and stronger than ever”.

“It’s a storm of many kinds and many faces that can hit from many sides and the only thing that can stop it from hurting is a rare to be found defence!”. 

The oak went on while my full body stood unable to move notwithstanding drops of icy rain were already falling on my face. – “Then you see me like an object and call me a tree, but I am something you are not really able to see and I speak a language that most of you often do not hear. Without me there would be no shade, no rest, no haven, there would be no air to breath or rain to drink no burst of life but nothingness” .-

 “However you’ve been so kind to me” – The oak kept saying ” – “and thoughtful taking my seeds around so I want to thank you for all the things I know giving you the knowledge you deserve to have for your direction and for all the times you’ll come to visit me here, I’ll tell you a story that I know is true and worth to know about”.

Then the rain started to pour and the oak stopped talking but immediately after all the leaves shaken by the winds were singing tuned by the beat of the drops.  

These are my roots, this is my calling. To be an haven for birds and house for many more lives and for all of you if only you would let me grow freely.

I am the harbour of your dreams        

The boat that takes you ashore

A bridge to cross the cliff 

The hatred to be hindered      

The calmness for your rest      

The hope that never fades

The reason to keep walking

The flower you won’t pick       

The snail you did’nt crush

A blanket for your dreams

A shield for your beliefs

The wind you cannot catch

The kindness never lost

The lighthouse to get back

The promise never broken

The trust that doesn’t fail

The bird that flew away

The fawn that you let run

The faith without reward

The regrets you did not keep

The smiles you gave for free.

This is the love above your love,

The love beyond all loves

That spreads its seeds all over,

that is the Tree of Love.

And Love is just the Tree

that shelters from the storm.

ennio forina

3 thoughts on “The Tales Of The Sleepless Oak

  1. The kindness never lost…vero, la gentilezza non perde mai, e non va mai perduta se applicata sempre in qualsiasi condizione e verso qualsiasi essere vivente anche se vegetale o minerale.Tutto ha un’anima dal momento che vive e secondo me non è poi così strampalato parlare a un sasso o una pianta sapendo che nell’immediato non ci risponderà , ma la sua risposta prima o poi l’avremo. Sensibilità e amore verso ciò che ci circonda può solo arricchirci, di questo ne sono convinta.

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