Hollow

*Nature Post*

A knarled tree sits in the middle of a forest, only half full of leaves. A little scrappy, a little under dressed, but not too noticeably different from any other exept for one thing.

This tree has a hollow in the center of it’s twisted trunk. A crevice torn out, a cavern created from the rot inside. From the slow decay over many years.

The hollow has become a home for anyone in need of shelter. Accepting anyone, the conifer becomes home to squirrels, raccoons and birds. They all find a haven inside, a place where they can be free from predators.

Sharing their secrets in the form of acorns and berries, the tree keeps them safe. Tells no one, gets nothing in return, but still bares their burdens. Perhaps this is some futile attempt to compensate for the missing parts of itself. Maybe it keeps the animals safe because it failed to protect itself, allowing the poison inside to corrode it’s core.

The tree and I are alike, tearing ourselves apart to protect and nurture others. Keeping their secrets because we feel it is our duty not to fail. Losing a few pieces of ourselves here and there because we give all our energy away to care for our tenants.

We both have a hollow inside created from internal corruption, but fill the emptiness with others, hoping we won’t feel the absence of ourselves.

But if there were no hole, would we do the same? Would we even care to look around, to bring the broken in and help them find solace? Or would we pass by because we don’t feel the need to fill our hollow.

Maybe to comfort someone else, we must lose a piece of ourselves first.

If that’s the case, I’d make the sacrifice every time. Until there’s so much erosion, I drift away as subatomic particles, getting lost in the breeze.

-The Splintered Pencil