Trees store memories of water,
drought, bad dream, is forgotten.
*Love is a spring, ever remembered*
hate decomposes to waste.

k-balachandran

Green leaves of memories

Jun 6, 2026

June 2026

2026

Anger & Conflict - June 2026

Beauty & Aesthetics - June 2026

Dark & Scary - June 2026

Death & Mortality - June 2026

Drama & Tragedy - June 2026

Family & Relationships - June 2026

Fantasy & Magical - June 2026

Happiness & Joy - June 2026

Heartbreak & Loss - June 2026

Historical & Ancient - June 2026

Hope & Optimism - June 2026

Humor & Satire - June 2026

Inspiration & Motivation - June 2026

Love & Romance - June 2026

Mystery & Supernatural - June 2026

Nature & Environment - June 2026

Philosophical & Intellectual - June 2026

Political & Social - June 2026

Sadness & Melancholy - June 2026

Sexy & Sensual - June 2026

Time & Nostalgia - June 2026

Transformation & Change - June 2026

War & Heroism - June 2026

World & Travel - June 2026

lily-mae

Maybe that's why I wear the tree of life metal around my neck..to remind me that every one thing has a purpose... Xo.

removed.--2658

The trees is such a potent symbol, tree of life, of knowledge of good an evil, Yggdrasil, Bodhi ... this reminded me of what my partner has told me about the beliefs of her Irish ancestors on the oak tree, that it stores all the knowledge of the universe in the sap that runs through it. 

I have a strange idea come into my head all at once and fully formed, thinking of the universe itself (and every potential universe, other realities) as a single tree (like a data structure, the computer scientist in me talking I suppose); at the beginning is the root, and in that root is recorded the placement of everything in time and space at the moment of the beginning of everything, right down to the smallest and insignificant subatomic particle, all recorded. The first branch is the placement of everything at the very next instant ... and beside and alongside that branch are so many other branches, that represent not only those changes in placement that had occurred in reality, but any possible change, all the ones that could have happened, yet did not. And from those branches, the next moment, and the next, so that the exquisite tree formed contains the knowledge of not only every single moment that has past since the first dawning of time, but everything that could have happened (physically at least) ... the infinite represented by the finite. Maybe those Celts were somehow correct.

Yet, on a more personal level, your poem speaks to us as trees ourselves, too; we count the days of life by years like rings of wood surrounding, the happy memories of days past that store of water, love (whether past or current) being the one inexhaustible supply that sustains us, hate destroying, such a perfect metaphor, wondrous! I admire your vision, and the story you tell so succinctly.