Awakening
Breathe.
Breathe.
I could hear myself wheezing on the oxygen tube, and the beeping of the life support machine.
Mariah, my dear granddaughter was shouting for me. "Grandpa! I love you grandpa!"
There was a quiet protracted sob. That must be Rachel. She always tries so hard to stay strong and not to cry. I could no longer see, but I know Calvin is beside her, hands on to her shoulders, hugging her close to him. I know he will continue to take care of them when I'm gone.
My body is growing cold, but I could feel the sun rays on my face, warming me up. This is a great way to go, I thought.
The noise slowly faded, until all I could hear was the faint beeping of the machine.
Beep.
Beep.
Breathe.
I felt at peace.
Beep.
Beeeeeeep...
Cheeeeeeep..
.. I was still breathing. I feel like I had just been breathing for a very long time. And was that birds I hear?
My body was still cold but I was feeling much stronger. I couldn't hear Mariah, or my daughter anymore.
I opened my eyes.
All around me and above, blue skies, with a few puffy white clouds in between. Green fields stretching out, edged by forests.
It was beautiful.
What is this? What happened?
I was still breathing. A thousand, a million breathes a time. Through my leaves, rustling in the gentle breeze. A hundred branches, stretching out in the sun.
I was a tree. I felt like I had been standing here for eternity, but at the same time, it was like I was just lying in my hospital bed, dying of heart failure.
Was I reincarnated already?
And as a tree?
I had lived a long life. And it seemed like I have a long life yet to live.
As I revered in my new identity and life, I heard a scuffle. From the forest ran a white bunny, making a mad dash with a fox hot on its tail.
Oh, little bunny, why would you run to this open plain? There are no places to hide, just smooth grounds and short grass all around.
As it approached, I could see its eyes darting about, wide in terror, looking for a hiding spot.
I wished I could help him. All life was equal, and I do feel sorry for depriving the fox of its meal, but today is the first day awakening to my new life, and I do not wish to see bloodshed. Not today.
I twisted my body slightly. The trunk groaned, and creaked, and a hollow unraveled slowly in front of the bunny. Without any hesitation, it made a dive in.
With a snarl, the fox dove after it, only to circle back out in confusion. Whimpering, it scampered back towards the forest, its prey having vanished into thin air.
Sorry, better luck next time, I whispered. As if it heard me, the fox turned around, before running off again.
The hollow was shallow and there was no further places to hide. It waited for the sharp gnashing teeth to tear into its behind, but they never came. The smell of the fox had abruptly vanished. Surprised, the bunny poked its head out of the hollow. It was greeted by the smell of leaves, wet soil and trees. It was in the forest. A foreign forest. All around it, trees stretched to the skies, and sunlight peeked through the foliage. Young shoots broke through the forest litter. A small lizard sauntered by, cast a curious glance at it, and continued on its leisurely way.
Tentatively, the bunny hopped out. It didn't recognize this place, but the fox was no where to be seen. And the forest was full of life and food and hiding places. It scampered off into the great unknown.
Behind it, the hollow in the tree silently closed.
Two hundred years later, the forest had expanded to where I am. It was a good time, full of life. There were deers and monkeys, birds roosted in my branches, and large beetles made nests amongst my roots.
I remembered. It was a good place for a little bunny. I hoped it would find happiness and safety here.
I just died minutes ago. Or had it been a millenia? I also knew now that I had always been here, a tree towering over everything else, being one and remembering the story of the land. The past, the present, the future, and the many possibilities.
In this life, I am the World tree. The one and only, the common denominator, the pathway between worlds.