The Redwoods

The trees. I’m uncertain about them.

They are beautiful. They are tall. They climb confidently to the sky. They reach and stretch, begging heaven to take them up away from the other. Their limbs grow and twist and pulse like the veins that run in webs underneath my skin. Underneath my human flesh.

They make me feel small. Sort of insignificant. But at the same time, I feel as if they smile down at me with love in their eyes.

But that is only when they stand in the light.

When they are dark, I feel as if they are towering menacingly over me. They want me to shrink in fear, cower in their overwhelming courageousness. They wish for me to bow down in humble worship. They want to invoke the insignificance I so often feel anyways. They are full of darkness and hopelessness. I am lost in them. Lost in their eerie silence.

I am in love with their bleakness, their darkness, their shadows.

Would someone ever be so foolish to be in love with mine?