The feeling of Popping
Spring is inevitably coming. The first leaf buds popped open, at the tree across the street. The ones in front of my window are not fully ready yet.
How might that feel,
as a tree? Sensing that new life rushing through you, wanting to burst!
The tree does look modest, silent. The first bird's nests quite exposed, woven into those naked branches. It looks withdrawn, calm like sleeping. But inside ... there must be so much going on!
After enduring winter, defending its energy, feeling the condition to open up again. Soaking up juice from the roots. It must come visible, it must be obvious, it will be seen. It can't be hidden for much longer. It wants to pop, and it will. It will.
Does the tree feel ready? Do they feel like falling behind in comparison to their fellow companion across the street? How does it feel, sensing there's something organing going on in your body, a transformation bubbling up, a process, that continuous pace you cannot influence.
I don't know. And maybe I know ...
I kind of guess I can detect how that could feel. I'm sensing there's something going on in my body, too. Transformation is such a physical thing. Sometimes I wish I could push it. Sometimes I want a pause. Sometimes I'm afraid I'd pop up too early.
I wanna burst, but I don't feel ready.
I watch the branches with those delicate buttons at their tops. They are so tiny, so tender, so many, it's spread all over. Maybe some of them have already cracked open in hidden secrecy.
Spring is coming inevitably. The generated power will be turned out to everyone's eyes who wants to look and see. It will pop. When the time is there. I trust the stoic, sovereign organic process of nature.
I feel you, tree. We will follow the example of the other one over there. You will pop and shine your beauty. The world needs that so badly.
And so will I.
(The tree popped a day after I wrote this. I still trust.)