Isolated. Alone. Yet standing among others. They raise their arms around me. So, I raise my arms to join them. Like feathers along the wing of a bird, green leaves cling to the parchment like bark that covers my body. Isolated. But not truly alone. My fingers entwine with those around me, and together we cast the earth below in green sunlight. Light that gives us life, bathes us in warmth, and wraps us in a glowing cocoon of comfort. Knowledge that we are alive. I am alive. Isolated. On the inside, I am alone. Outside, surrounded by others just like me. Arms raised to the sky, holding hands, we blanket the heavens to catch the rain that revitalizes us. Deep in the earth, my roots hold fast, despite the winds that rip away my leaves, and cause my trunk to creak with the strain of standing. But I stand. And I don’t stand alone. I stand with the aid of the earth and the others holding onto my branches. Powerful. I can withstand the elements. Wind blows, but I stand. Water fades, but I have saved enough. Fire burns, but my bark protects me. And through the earth and the sun, I can grow again. Isolated, but not truly any longer. I am my own inside, and outside others love and care for me. And forces greater than I truly understand keep me standing, my roots seated securely in the earth, and now I raise my arms in praise of being alive, basking my leaves in the glory of the sun. And I live. Powerful. Secure. Myself.