A Family of Roots

A Family of Roots

By: Joy Ortiz 

She is a girl with roots

Twisted and strong. 

They branch out,

Stretching away beneath the ground. 

You see her,

The young, scarred tree,

But do you know

What makes her stand tall?

She was a cast-off,

A whirlybird

Born, then flung away

From the parent tree. 

Through the air she flew,

Not knowing where she would land. 

She fell on the sidewalk

And into a hard, inhospitable world. 

How would she ever grow here?

She was small,

Vulnerable, and

Alone

Until a giant hand

Lifted her. 

She found herself gazing 

Into an unknown face

As the man,

For it was a man,

Carried her away. 

With a voice stronger than wind

And warmer than sun,

He spoke. 

"Well, little one!

You will never grow down there!

Let me take you somewhere better."

He took her to an arboretum

Filled with trees of every size and variety. 

Massive oaks,

Weeping willows,

Japanese maples,

Scotch pines,

Fruit trees,

Nut trees,

Trees tall and small,

Sturdy and delicate,

Deciduous and evergreen

All lived together in the garden. 

Each had its place

Like prized artifacts in a museum. 

Beneath each tree

A plaque bore its name. 

"This is my garden," said the man proudly. 

"Do you see all of these fine trees?

They were once cast-off, lonely seeds

Just like you. 

I found them and brought them here

To see what they would become."

The whirlybird

Gazed in wonder 

At the trees and the man

Who had planted them. 

She was speechless. 

"Here, my dear," said the man,

"You will become

A tree."

He knelt upon the ground.

With a gardening trowel

He dug a small hole in the sod,

Exposing the fine, black earth below. 

"Are you ready?" he asked the seed. 

She trembled

As he laid her in the hole. 

"Yes," she whispered, and

He buried her. 

Time passed. 

The seed began to grow

Roots. 

First a root named Mom grew

With father and brothers branching from it.

Next grew a root named Mom and Dad

With brothers and sisters

Stretching out from its nourishing center, but

A burrowing pest 

Attacked and devoured part of it.

Then it was only Dad

And the siblings who clung to him. 

There were grandma and grandpa roots,

Birth-sister roots,

A weak, sickly birth-mother root,

Friend roots,

Mentor roots, and

Church roots. 

Each brought the seed

Nourishment,

Stability, and

Strength.

Up from them

She grew. 

She pierced the dark soil,

Emerging into the sun. 

"There you are, little one,"

Said the gardener. 

He had been kneeling above her

With a watering can. 

"Welcome to the world, little maple tree."

Under his care

She grew and grew. 

She weathered many storms. 

Through drought and downpour,

Pests and pestilence,

The man cared for her. 

She began to branch out,

Reaching her limbs toward

Neighboring trees. 

Her leaves rustled with the wind.

Her trunk grew

Thick and strong. 

She became a home for birds,

A haven for squirrels,

A shelter from the rain. 

Beneath her,

Supporting her,

Growing from the heart

Of a whirlybird seed

Stretched her family. 

Not a family tree, but

A tangled,

Twisted,

Beautiful

Family of roots. 

They hold her fast. 

They give her life. 

Past spreads out below her, and

Above her

Only the sky.