I was a giant.
One day while running, I spotted you atop a tree.
You were waving. Smiling. Barely able hold the branches from my ground shaking footsteps.
I don't know why but I picked you up, gently. You sat upon my shoulders and told me of your dreams of one day building your own home.
I showed you the place I called home, yet it was too big for you.
So we went back out.
I gathered you stones of love to act as a foundation.
I plucked mighty oaks of trust from the ground to provide lumber for your walls and security.
I cleared a spot for you in my home, and allowed you to construct yours.
And all was well.
One day, you came to me in the night.
You whispered into my ear that my footsteps were too loud for you
That my movements disturbed your peace and shattered your dreams as you slept.
I tried to crawl.
Tried to slide across the ground on my belly.
For a while I just stopped moving.
Without my massive footsteps to crush the forests, and stunt the mountains
The forests began to become an overgrown thick brush
The mountains toppled from their own height and destroyed anything around them
But I sat. Quietly. And watched.
And then it became my breathing.
My heartbeat.
The pounding sound of blood rushing through my veins.
My laughter.
My very existence was too loud. Too disturbing to your peace.
So when your walls started to rot
And you slept through,
I wasn't sure what the correct course of action was.
When the wind began eroding away the foundation, and collapsing the home around you
I was sure you'd awaken
But you didn't
Your home is gone now
Replaced by a pile of rotted wood that was your security and trust from the outside
And stones so heavy, only I can clean them up now.
And I will. Slowly
And once the pile of rubble is gone, and your corpse is located and buried
I will swear the vow that under any circumstance,
I will not let anyone tell me my existence is too powerful for them.
I am a Giant. And I will not falter from running any longer.
To Bri. My final poem to you.
