[ WP ] All souls come from the Tree of Life . The Tree is beginning to die . You have been sent to save it .

Alone with the Tree, in this strange floating place of brightness and warmth, I hunched my shoulders, feeling like the most miserable person to have ever walked on the good earth. 
 
 I imagined I felt the Tree ’ s impassive gaze steady upon me. Scuffing my toe into the weird golden sandy soil into which the Tree sank its thick and heavy roots, I risked a glance up into the sweeping canopy. 
 
 Why me? I cursed under my breath. Why you indeed! Another part of me answered. Because you ’ re a liar, the world ’ s biggest phoney! You and your perfect gardens, full of plants that kept dying and that you kept replacing so no one would find out that you don ’ t have those green thumbs you keep on boasting about! Because you had all those beautiful bonsai growing and nobody ever looked closely enough to see that the trees were not the trees they had been. Dead and replaced, just like every other plant you ever tended! 
 
 I wept a little, standing at the foot of that colossal Tree, hearing its steady rustle of leaves as it breathed serenely, even knowing it was dying. 
 
 This thought made me stifle my quiet sobs and dry my cheeks. Dying. I gazed up at the ponderous thing, finally opening myself to seeing it truly, the great outstretched boughs, so strong and held so proudly, despite the great weight of that which it bore. 
 
 Dying. How could this be? I felt the tears start afresh and I stumbled toward the Tree. Stumbling, I threw my arms about the rough trunk. 
 
 You can ’ t be dying! What had simply begun as a hold to keep myself upright became something more, and I snuggled more closely to the Tree. I felt the bark against my cheek as my breathing slowed and my tears ceased once more. 
 
 My ear was pressed up close to the trunk, and I could feel its breathing, I could hear secrets murmured deep within the ancient thing and suddenly, my eyes snapped open. Something had changed, something subtle, something… 
 
 I looked up, and saw the gleaming dome of the strange floating place. I looked down, and saw the weird golden sandy soil. I looked and looked and in one moment of clarity, I knew this was the right thing. 
 
 My boughs are thick and heavy, but I hold them proudly. I hear my leaves rustle with my slow steady breaths. My roots delve deep, thick and strong with the wisdom of the years. 

