Trees

Another day, day before thanksgiving, day before Yawm Al Arafah (Day of Arafah).

Classes are lax without purpose or aim, at least for this day.

Motionless in a vacant presentation room, staring aimlessly as the minute hand ticks, tick tock tick tock, people die, birds flock, contemplation come my way, as a friend concentrates in the background with piano in play.

My mind has stagnated.

But I have come upon another self-realization. As I peered outside the hall, I came across a nearby tree, red in aesthetic, brown in assertion, serving for my mind a noticed diversion. Today it stood by itself, aged and sturdy in place. Clothed with leaves dipped blood red.

Harsh wind cuts through the morning.

Other trees sway with the wind in whatever direction it dictates.

Unlike the instruments of an orchestra playing in harmonic tune to the maestro's command, I emit a horrendous cacaphony easily distinguished from the rest, able to revert back to the original track time and time again but never able to fulfill my obligations.

Maybe I need a solo?

Last week the same tree retained a shade of green. This morning a deep autumn red.

Time can change things so fast. Before you know it. People leave people.go.

Some trees are accustomed to the weather and possess their original color. Other trees change their colors accordingly. Some trees stay sturdy and dominant while others sway with the flow.

People are trees.