Keep a green tree in your heart and perhaps a singing bird will come.
I like the connotations of a green tree in your heart. I recall some moments when I have felt something like a vibrant green tree in my heart---a glorious gratitude for being alive type of feeling when I feel like I have clear blue sky and fresh sunshine in my lungs and the green tree in my heart is filled with a mighty chorus of singing birds---moments like when I married my sweetheart for time and all eternity, moments when I held my babies for the first time... Other times I have felt like I have a soft green tree in my heart gently swaying in the breeze with a few birds softly chirping---times of just sitting and holding hands with my husband, times of watching my children sleep tucked in all safe and sound and innocent, and times of soaking in the laughter of my grandchildren. Then are times when the tree in my heart isn't green at all and it's bare and cold with maybe one bird just sitting in it waiting for the renovations to be finished---times when I am worried or depressed or overwhelmed--times when I feel old and tired and bent with regret and too far away from Springtime.
How do we keep the tree in our hearts green? Biology basics---sunlight---plenty of light, water---living water to wash and refresh and renew, food---truth and hope to nourish and strengthen.
Of course all of this has to reach down to the roots...
From Chinese proverbs to Emily Dickinson---
Hope
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the stangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Beautiful
By the way, when I googled the poem I noticed that today would have been the 100th birthday of Jacques Cousteau---I just noticed that the last part of his last name means water in French---
I remember watching Jacques Cousteau specials on television as a kid. He always seemed old to me but strong like he had weathered many a storm. Since I seem to be attempting to wax poetic, Mr. Cousteau reminded me of a fish out of water---not in an awkward way but a good way--the sea was so much a part of the man. I think I will try and read more about him. I think a friend of mine was recently reading a book about him.
