The Tree of Life

The Tree of Life stands, a child of Mother Nature, a symbol of the circle of humanity, one rung at a time. The lines of Earth point directly to its roots; the sun, rain, nourishes its needs. The fruits from its branches are precious gifts to those living on Earth, precious things that can fertilize a whole desert, or bring life back to dead seas. The Tree of Life gives life, eternally as a child of nature, caring for its belongings, holding together with its meager implements the whole of the planet. It is its only job, only purpose, taking from the ground and the sky and giving back its weight in life.

The Tree of Life is dying.

Its roots will take no more. The earth gives its minerals and water as it always has, but no root will open its mouth, feed its growing hunger. The leaves are turning color too early, withering at the very tips. The branches wave a little too easily in the breezes, its own weight burdening its own branches and trunk. Its shine has dampened, and will see the sun no more.

The Tree of Life is dying. It will not tell us why.

A small village cares for the Tree of Life. Though the earth and the sun and the rain feeds its physical needs, the villagers trek to the Tree, and pay it humble homage. They pray to it in simple words, surround it as if it were sacred ground, and sometimes just watch the Great Tree as it creates the life of the world. But for a week now the Tree will not hear their prayers. It does not dance to their songs. For a week now the villagers have known the Tree is dying, and they can't help it, or know why. They think the Tree is angry, or sad, but they know it is dying. The village has gone silent. They know what is next.

The Tree of Life is dying. It will never grow back.

Mother Nature planted the Tree, as a sign for the world to look upon and understand the connection. The great Connection. Between everything on this planet, from sky, to land, to sea, from great mountains to dust-like fleas. The living to the inate, the colorful to the invisible. Those that die in minutes to eternal things. No part of the web is unchained. They all hold the same amount. And the Tree of Life holds all, in the middle of this web. The fulcrum of the Earth, the bind that keeps the world alive.

The Tree of Life is dying. And it is about to let go.

A man in the nearby village had a dream. He awoke and told the story to the rest of the villagers. Some wept as he told his tale, others merely silent in awe. The rest only heard, realizing the end was near. His dream went like this:

"I saw the Tree dying. I saw a branch fall, a whole branch, scarring the Tree forever. And as it fell, from the break before it hit the ground, I saw a part of the world go dark. A piece of the world died. Its soil went dry. Its part of the sea turned black with death. Life died in unimaginable quickness. It was as though the sun could not shine down on it anymore. I saw the whole world, and I saw where it was dark.

"I almost cried, when I heard the Tree speak:

'This is the future of the world. I will not nourish it anymore. I am done with it all. I have chosen that the world will now end.'

"And its great voice was gone, and I saw the Tree again, and it showed me its pain. The breaks in its branches, the strain in its trunk. It was showing me the pictures of its death. Then I saw it fall..."

He remained silent. He could not speak anymore. He saw the Tree dead, and nothing felt worse, other than his own death. He stared at the fire , and saw nothing but the flames. There was nothing left to think about.

 

The Tree of Life is dying. And will have no more name.

A branch fell the next day. The greatest day of disasters the world has ever known occured. Tornadoes whipped mercilessly across whole countries. The waves went tidal, and wiped away the lands by the sea. Not a single war was fought that day, but more people died than the world had ever known. The food poisoned them, the disasters took their lives, the very air they breathed choked their lungs. The survivors of this day prayed thanks they lived for the next day. And then cried at their rotten luck.

The village knew nothing of what went on in the rest of the world, but it knew the world was dying. Their day went the same as before, save the visit to the Great Tree. The man who dreamed, however, was restless and would not settle for this.

"I can ask the Tree to live again," he told the others. They didn't think it was wise to question the Tree, but no one stopped him as he trekked to the sacred ground.

He arrived, and saw the fallen branch. His dream images returned, and left him cold, empty, sobbing inside. Then he got as close as he could make himself be, and knelt to the Tree.

"Oh Great Tree, please end this dying. Forgive the world for its sins, restore life once again to our world. Bear us your fruits, and live off the earth and sun again. Let us pray to you again, and let us sing forever your praises."

The Tree did not stir. Not a sound could be heard, not a twitch could be seen.

The man would not settle, would fight till he had no more fight left.

He saw the fallen branch. He stood up, and carefully walked closer to the Tree. He could feel its breathing, could feel its heavy presence. But he leaned closer to pick up the fallen branch. He raised it, though heavy, and lifted it, back to where it used to be. His arms strained, but he was careful, he was slow. Finally, the ends where it split were aligned, and he waited.

Nothing. So with a gentle push he touched the bare ends of the branch and tree, putting it back to its former place. At the slightest touch he heard. Then saw. A crack came from where he touched the Tree, and it grew wider. Then the Tree's other cracks grew wider, and shook as though it was held up by tiny dry leaves. Then it fell. Its trunk snapped into a hundred tiny splinters, and the leaves crackled and crunched, and the branches split and broke into dust. The Tree of Life fell, and was gone in a moment's time.

The man went crazy with terror. He ran as fast as he could. Away, away.

He died, never reaching his village.

The Tree of Life had died. The Tree of Life is dead. The Tree of Life will be no more.

And Mother Nature realizes that her child had killed the whole world, her included. She wept a single tear.

She said, "I never expected to live forever. But I never expected the end to be here so soon.

"My Tree was dying the day I planted its seed. I just wish it would have forgotten that fact for a little longer. The people never had a chance to see what it was really all about."

Mother Nature then died.

The world is silent. Dark and still. And in a million years to anyone passing by, not a single thing would remain in this lifeless group of planets. And that's just how it ended.

 

By Don Bernal

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