A tree

There was once a tree who bent down to pick me up. He said, you are too small; let me make you bigger. His branches stooped down below my head and curled around my waist. His branches held me. And up, up, up we went! Beyond my head, there are leaves. Beyond my vision, there is sky. And up, floating, in the midst of the leaves on top of the sky I am in your arms. I am in your arms.

There was once a tree who bent down to pick me up. He said, your heart is too small; let me makes it bigger. He picked me up and then he lowered me down, down. Everyone was a skeleton and all I could see was their hearts. They were melting. All of these hearts were melting and they were grey. Some had been thrashed and others were so bruised, they were dented. Crying, I said, take me out of here tree! He drew me out and then I look at myself, hidden in the leaves, and I saw that I was naked. There were bruises all around my heart.

And I cried, tree, having a heart is painful. And he said, but you are the luckiest one. You get to be human. I am simply a tree, a resting post. Now, go be a human and love all the other humans you can. Let me tell you a secret. And then the tree took me up into his crook of his neck and whispered, when you love the humans, their bruises go away and their grey becomes colour.