It's There Just The Same

There’s a tree in our “front yard” and it’s blooming. Blooming, so everyone can see. It looms over us, touching the clear, blue firmament of clouds and atmosphere, with outstretched, mangled brown arms that hold dozens of bright white petals. You can smell it outside—a thick, floral smell that permeates the air and chokes you…in a good way. It fills you up, the smell. It enters your lungs until you breathe in so deeply that it resides in the pit of your stomach, so close you feel as though you could taste it. Every day it changes; there will be a few more blooms as the scent becomes richer and richer until it’s a flower in the sky. A big, white cotton ball kissing the blue.

But it’s trapped in a cage of brick in the center of our courtyard, all alone in the wilderness created by man for man’s enjoyment. It doesn't get its fair share of sunshine, shaded by the bricks. But it still looms above the roof of our dorm, peeking it’s majesty out, seeing the world. The world teases it, as it sits in its cage, wishing. Wishing for clean air, room to flourish and grow, to feel the wind pass through it as it travels through the grass. But for now, it’s sitting in our “front yard”, wishing all alone.

It’s there, even when you don’t notice it. A lot of people don’t. But it’s there just the same. Wishing, all alone.

xoxo e