The Willow

Leaves rustle as my unshod feet boldly walked through the dense forest canopy, stopping by a bubbling stream, surrounded by mossy rocks and and slick tree roots sticky with algae. Water swirls in the stream as it passes embedded stones and goes down inclines, a dizzying journey through the rolling hills of of the stream, the constant rush so dissimilar from the ebb and flow of an ocean in the summer. I plant my feet in the shoreline and raise my arms to the sky, relinquishing my soul to nature as she takes me, my fingers elongating and hardening, darkening, until I am bark and my toes are roots, my hair streaming down my back in soft green tendrils. My bare body gnarls and expands as I become the tree, and with a smile, a tear of happiness rolls down my transforming cheek as I embrace my new life as a weeping willow, forever guarding this sacred grove.