| The dream of a tree |
| By Heather |
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The tree swayed in the wind and as the moon hung in the sky above, the tree dreamed, bathed in its muted glow. Such a strange dream... |
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It dreamed it were a man, gnawing and slicing at one of its brother trees with a terrible cutting tool. |
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On and on the destruction continued, but instead of anger the tree was filled with the feelings of this mans life. His love for his family, his dislike of his job and his need to provide for his children despide this. Anticipation of a warm house. Familiar sensations, as this was a recurring dream... |
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And the tree had a moment of doubt, for it could no longer tell... |
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...if it were a tree dreaming of being a man each night, or a man dreaming of being a tree. |
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