Life’s end

As my physical remains crumble into dust and become food for the Earth, for the insects and worms, I enrich and feed the soil that once fed me. The decay of my physical being nourishes the soil that sustained my long and prosperous life. The rains, snows, ice, the freezes and thaws have begun to break down what is left of me.

Grandmother Cottonwood’s stump

My spirit, the energy that supported my physical being continues, as bright, as strong as ever. Now the ā€œIā€ that was focused and centered in the once living tree experiences an immense freedom, an expansion, a lightness, a joy in knowing my oneness with all that is.

Gone are the days of knowing the baking heat and withering drought, chill winter winds, eroding washes of driving rain, the threat of lightening and high winds.

I loved my life in the form of a magnificent cottonwood tree in spite of harsh weather, boring insects, men with bucket trucks and chainsaws. I lived a beautiful life, connected intimately with the web of all-that- is.

My spirit endures!

And now from my new perspective, my spirit observes the manifestations, the ebb and flow, the dance of life on earth with deep gratitude and great love for all beings.

I have a new viewpoint on the web of life, or the web of spirit, if you like. For in my new reality I know without doubt that all things are one.

GCW speaks

Dear ones, my spirit is stunned and disoriented by the sudden and violent loss of my life.

My spirit still hovers in this place, the beloved home I’ve know for so many decades. I have been forcibly removed from this precious life for unknown reasons. I was not ready for this.

GCW stump

One day I was soaking in sunlight through my green and silver leaves, drawing in life-giving water and earth energy through my roots. Then suddenly I was in pieces on the ground.

My growth rings are now visible to the sky.

I will have more to say when I get my bearings in this new yet familiar realm of the disembodied spirit.

In my new dimension of existence storms, lightning, heaving frosts, high winds, insects, gnawing rodents, men with chainsaws can never again harm damage or diminish me.

Grandmother Cottonwood

My earthly presence is gone, taken down in a morning’s work. My spirit endures.

My spirit belongs to this Earth.