Look higher. In later years, the tree burst into life at its crown. How thick and verdant the branches grew—pushing up toward the light, leaning out toward the wind as though to shout . . .
I don’t care!
This is me!
Here I am!
. . . to the water, to the world, to all the other straight and proper trees.
No longer will I lace my branches into a corset.
No longer dole my sap in sanctioned drips, but spill over and up—my stickiness, my pitch a glorification.
I will grow as I will—in the roar of light from the throat of life.
I will burst forth unsanctioned.
I am the wild-hearted, unbridled creative life—the wayward ringing of the bells.
Looking at the tree, I saw my truth. This is who I have at last become. The tree crowned with the knowledge that living is all that matters.
LORE OF THE BELL
Watch for the world to reveal your truth
7:30 BELLS Posts run every Tuesday.
7:30 BELLS Guest Posts run on the second Tuesday of every month. Join me on April 8 for a guest post with award-winning author Janet Lee Carey, author of Dragonswood.