The tree stood alone for centuries.
Grown from a seed dropped by a passing god, landing in the ether and sproutting from chaos. It's mere existance was a defiance, and it refused to cease.
So it waited. It waited and watched, serving no purpose; not even having the nurturing earth beneath it's roots. Alone, it watched and dreamed.
It dream of un-lit hills, of cloud, and of rain. It dreamed of flowing rivers and mountains. It dreamed until it could dream no more, and when it could no longer dream, it slept; and in those dreams, it could feel the earth beneath it's roots and the sprinkle of a warm summer rain.
First came the earth, warm and fragrant, lovingly blanketing the roots, nurturing them, protecting them from the cold winter.
Then came the stream, flowing across the embankment, caressing the earth, feeding the sky with it's sweet tears, forming clouds which would eventually fall to the ground below.
As it touched the earth, seeds began to sprout; grass, flowers and small bushes began to push their way from below.
Just as they grew, the world began to grow; the black mist parted, reveling in the distance mountains and a sun that rested on it's peaks for a moment as it slowly climbed into the blue sky.
Next came the hum of insects; bussing amongst the flowers, from yellow to blue to red, they sipped of their sweet nectar and crawled on the tree's branches, humming their small song as they fed from the leaves and made their homes within it's trunk.
Last, came the small mammals, chattering amongst it's branches and digging beneath it's roots. They talked among themselves and fed on the tree's seeds, using the knotholes within it's hull as a home.
When the tree awoke, it was no longer alone.
Grown from a seed dropped by a passing god, landing in the ether and sproutting from chaos. It's mere existance was a defiance, and it refused to cease.
So it waited. It waited and watched, serving no purpose; not even having the nurturing earth beneath it's roots. Alone, it watched and dreamed.
It dream of un-lit hills, of cloud, and of rain. It dreamed of flowing rivers and mountains. It dreamed until it could dream no more, and when it could no longer dream, it slept; and in those dreams, it could feel the earth beneath it's roots and the sprinkle of a warm summer rain.
First came the earth, warm and fragrant, lovingly blanketing the roots, nurturing them, protecting them from the cold winter.
Then came the stream, flowing across the embankment, caressing the earth, feeding the sky with it's sweet tears, forming clouds which would eventually fall to the ground below.
As it touched the earth, seeds began to sprout; grass, flowers and small bushes began to push their way from below.
Just as they grew, the world began to grow; the black mist parted, reveling in the distance mountains and a sun that rested on it's peaks for a moment as it slowly climbed into the blue sky.
Next came the hum of insects; bussing amongst the flowers, from yellow to blue to red, they sipped of their sweet nectar and crawled on the tree's branches, humming their small song as they fed from the leaves and made their homes within it's trunk.
Last, came the small mammals, chattering amongst it's branches and digging beneath it's roots. They talked among themselves and fed on the tree's seeds, using the knotholes within it's hull as a home.
When the tree awoke, it was no longer alone.
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