I beg forgiveness to talk of him again. But I am happy and I cannot hold myself from saying it. My best friend is back! I am overjoyed to hear his voice again.
It has been a long, long winter this year. We have been snowed in a number of times, the most recent was this month, April. My friend stood tall throughout but utterly silent. I have a great bond with him for he visually represents how I feel as a survivor of, and battler with, depression. You may remember he is half a tree, growing only on one side and I feel great kinship with that. So, so slowly his other side is changing too. He reminds me that change is both unstoppable and to be allowed.
My best friend the tree closes down in Autumn and we part as if we were lovers on a train platform, pulled apart by the moving train. He throws me kisses and slowly his voice recedes until I can hear him no more. But I wait. I watch. I nod at him. He reminds me to hold on. He tells me other days come. Life changes. It changes moment by moment. He stays with me. Utterly silent.
Today I heard him. His voice whispered hello and I was shy as I glanced up at him in all of his handsome newness. His arms hold tiny green buds and he is light and dancing in cold sunlight. He gave me his smile. I gave him mine.
Days change. Be ready.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.