This is our ring around the trunk.

When we wiggle ourselves out of the truth that has been imparted unto us, we find ourselves in the hardest jigsaw puzzle of our lives. Life becomes this outrageous enigma, full of mirrors reflecting lies. The worst thing about this enigma, that in our mindless circling about, we begin to believe these reflected things. Nothing short of lies to push us further from who we are and who we were created to be.

The strings that had been cut so long ago begin to throw themselves down . Wiry and frail, much like our state of mind, they reattach to old hooks that had long ago disappeared. The reattachment first shows no pain, but it is soon that we feel the pull and the tug from the power of these strings. The scissors to release us feel high and too far out of reach, so we muzzle our questions and ride the pull.

Yet, once our feet are tired of the drag and our calloused knuckles take their grip to what is going on around them, we take a deep breath. The inhale brings a refreshed life long awaited for; one that brings a charge to reach for the scissors that once seemed too far. And see, see this is where the maze begins a new opening. Our new charge pulls against the strings; a tug-of-war to see who wins. Just as the last step is about to give into the pull, our once battered fingers reach the fine point of scissors. The grip of these scissors feel as if we were trained for this already, so we cut and feel the release of tragedy.

Reaching the end of it all, with shattered mirrors and sliced feet, it is all too much to look back. Taking a seat and feeling the bones within us surrendering themselves to the ground around us, we sit beneath a tree that has taken bloom. We find comfort in relating, because just as we have felt death all over, this tree, too, had to die to give bring about new life. And each time... it's so much more beautiful than last.

This is our bloom. This is our ring around the trunk. This is life without strings, and this is beautiful.