Grafted On My Own

Grafted On My Own by Stephanie C. Weaver

I never use to appreciate the family tree I came from and the kind of fruit we bear. You see, when I was young branch, I was cut from my family tree, and grafted to another’s tree. It was a peach tree that created the softest, sweetest fruit you ever did meet. Every year as I grew and got older, I drew what nutrients I could from this peach tree. Each spring when our early fruits would come in, I would be chastised for growing differently. Try as I might to bond to this tree, my buds were never noticed, and my blossoms were criticized for smelling different and being the wrong color. When I bore fruit, I was told that it was hard, mediocre and tasteless. It didn’t take long before it was clear that this graft was never going to take.

Condemned for not being soft as a peach, I clutched and clung there for too many seasons, holding on the best I could. Relying on the loving rays of the sun and less and less on this grafted tree, I began to feel like I could never bear good fruit. Languishing and now sickly I dangled trying to pull some kind of nutrient or love from this foreign tree. I felt the poison of its rejection flow into my branch, until one day when the wind blew too hard, I dropped my fruit and detached completely. It dawned on me, laying there on the ground in the dirt. “I am not a Peach! I never was, and never could be!”

Over time laying there, in the ground, in the dirt alone, I remembered my family tree and our strength. I recalled how my mother tree bore a sturdy fruit that could last more than a season. I remembered the softness of our fruit when given the right nutrients and love. I remembered the soft white blossoms that required more patients to appreciate. As I thought about MY family tree and the warmth of them, the soil embraced my grafted end, healing it so new roots could form. These healed and healthy roots waiting for their time to grow, reached deep into the ground. With each passing moon my roots gained strength until I was pulled up into a standing position. Growing and thriving right where I had been planted.

A few more seasons have passed and these roots have firmly established themselves. I have branches of my own now that reach far beyond my own sturdy trunk. They are beautiful basking in the sun growing and budding. I see them bare their early fruits and beam with pride. They bare the same fruit I also bore. The same fruit my family tree bore before mine, a strong pear!

Grounding Art Therapy Drawing by Stephanie C. Weaver

To Be an Old Growth Again

Mama used to say our souls come from the trees. She taught me every time we cut a tree down, the soul of the tree is freed from its warm wooden encasement and it is bound into a mortal human body to enjoy life’s short journey.

Mama warned of a time when all the trees will have been cut down and all the seeds will be barren or lost. She said then a Great Winter will begin. All those mortal bodies will no longer journey, and the land will become still as the night.

Mama told me not to be afraid. She reassured me that in this Great Winter, our souls will be freed from our short mortal lives and we shall be regenerated back into the trees we once were. She reminded me that like all winters, our time to heal and rest will be upon us. A time that she always looked to fondly singing and dancing as she said:

“Oh, how I long to be an old growth again.

To frolic and play in the old way.

To have roots that shoot deep in the Earth,

Spreading into the land knowing your worth.

To be an old growth with a strong trunk

Never too tired and never feeling sunk.

To have budding branches with outstretched leaves

Waving hello to the sun and sky as reeves.

Oh, how I long to be an old growth again,

To frolic and play in the old way.

To feel the morning dew mist embrace me in love

As the chirps of the morning lark sing songs from above

To be at long last in that rejuvenating space

Where all the stress of this short life can be replaced

To live beyond time and be larger life

Where peace and calm know no strife

Oh, how I long to be an old growth again,

To frolic and play in the old way.”

Mama foretold all this would happen so in the Great Spring we would all reemerge from the trees, so the time of growth and understanding was possible. She said that this reemergence would start slowly at first only to speed up until we all will make our journey through this mortal life; all to learn the lessons only a mortal life can teach.

Mama spoke with wisdom when she insisted that these times of rejuvenation were just as important as our journey’s lessons. She was right that getting back to our roots will bring us the joy we need to aspire towards the sun. She provided me a knowledge that helps me every day, and now as I have journeyed some in this mortal life, I dance with her and sing her song;

“Oh, how I long to be an old growth again.

To frolic and play in the old way.

To have roots that shoot deep in the Earth,

Spreading into the land knowing your worth.

To be an old growth with a strong trunk

Never too tired and never feeling sunk.

To have budding branches with outstretched leaves

Waving hello to the sun and sky as reeves.

Oh, how I long to be an old growth again,

To frolic and play in the old way.

To feel the morning dew mist embrace me in love

As the chirps of the morning lark sing songs from above

To be at long last in that rejuvenating space

Where all the stress of this short life can be replaced

To live beyond time and be larger life

Where peace and calm know no strife

Oh, how I long to be an old growth again,

To frolic and play in the old way.”