If This Tree Could Speak

The other weekend, Brent and I went for a walk and heard this loud, furious, angry sounding screaming. It was quite the noise and it sounded very destructive, violent and disturbing. As we kept walking, the screaming came closer and we ended up walking right passed the bushes where the racket was coming from. This sick and distressing feeling came over me and all I wanted to do was go and talk to the guy and see what was wrong and why he was so upset. Brent had a head on his shoulders and stopped me from entering into the bush without thinking, and as we walked on by I prayed as release of what I was feeling. It was really sad to think about how this guy had so much anger and furry in him and yet had to go into the bush, all by himself to get it off his chest.
We went back later to where he had been, to find a tree fort of sorts, right on the edge of the water. It was cradled by this huge tree that had these big sprawling branches that hugged the lonely soul that sat in it's arms. The main platform of the fort had a ton of carvings and markings on it that could write novels of what had happened in that place.
Oh the stories this tree could tell if it only could speak. The secrets that were told and the memories that are erased. The words that were uttered and the curses that were thrown. The blessings that were embraced and the toxins that were inhaled. This tree holds it all. It is a place of security and a listening ear that will not object. It is a place of safety and a strong arm that will not beat back. It is a place of comfort and a warm heart that will not be hurt. If this tree could speak, oh the stories it would tell.