THE OAK

My weekly run was rudely interrupted by a sudden downpour, as if the heavens had contrived against me.

The run takes me past a small cemetery with only a few  headstones. At its bottom is a huge oak , underneath which is a bench, a frequent place to pause for breath. 

I sank into the bench waiting for the torrent to subside. Many a thoughts cluttered my conscioussness, Planning my week ahead, meeting deadlines, kids  exams,..

The mighty oak rustled behind, above and around me.

I revered it as it stood alone. Not  like a lonely person. But like a sage who has stolen away out of the worldly weakness.

It conversed and i learnt. It did not preach nor did it profess. It  gave the ancient law of nature.

It said, "A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, a life which will perpetuate even when I am gone"

I turned around to look at its might. It towered above all the other shrubs and trees,which huddled in groups. Its reach was above all. But, yet, it remained firmly rooted to the ground, suggesting that dust and soil is where we all end.

Its bark was exposed on a side where a branch had been chopped off. The rings underneath could be seen, and it bravely displayed without a shudder.

I felt very tiny, underneath that tree.

Not because of its physical size, but because it gave me an insight which  books and wise men failed to do.

 And it gave without asking for anything in return, without any pretention of noble charity.

The dark clouds had vanished and a refreshed mind and body started the return leg of journey. 

Except, from The Oak's viewpoint, there is no forward or backward...