The giant sequoia is made up of billions of little spirits
Each spiraling branch and slender leaf
breathing out and contributing
To our oxygen
To your life
I walk into view of the tree
A kid hangs on the tree and tugs at its branches
So large they surely seem they will never break
A man walks by and scowls at the path he is on
“God” he says. “These are such good climbing trees.
What a shame.”
And I think about man’s urge to conquer everything

Fairytales were written about these kinds of places
They are preserved to help us continue dreaming
Every time you walk off the path you decrease the likelihood of others living in that dreaming space too.

That once in a lifetime trip
Many years in the future
Many generations from now
A little girl will want to see the giant sequoia
But it died long ago 

So she just returns to the spot where it once was
A paradise turned wasteland
And dreams it back to life with a tiny sequoia seed
Nurturing it in the hopes that the great grandchildren of her great grandchildren
Will live to see it soar again