Redwood reaching skyward with strong, sturdy stamina. A tall teacher full of tales; eons of stories wrapped up in one storyteller.
Rings, rings, and rings telling of impossible crimson things, telling a history unknown, a library of forgotten knowledge coiled in tannic wood.
Holy Scripture written in circles, crevices, and ridges. The cursive inscribed in concentric circles. Circles of forgiveness, of love, of weather, of night, circles of daybreak, of life and of living; all telling tales of timelessness.
The future encapsulated in the past. The past encapsulated in the future. The tales disclose the design behind the cloak, the flower of life.
The legends bellow earth, mother, cedar, pine, and pear. The legends whisper fragrant, father, feral, raven, and resin. This elder giant…flowing, rooted, discerning…a truth-teller.
Moss at its feet and lichen along its core, this timeless teacher rocking life in all its lore.
A Sequoia of stillness; it meditates, contemplates, and heals life.
It holds sorrow in its branches, joy at its door, and the wisdom that people do not dare to hear or explore. The wisdom of the ages, the wisdom of lore, a wisdom that will break our hearts open to more.