The Tree House

The stump, as big as a pickup,

rests in an immaculate, tiled

car port as an object of veneration.

You approach it as you would

a Buddha by sliding on your

thighs with the soles of your

feet pointing away.

The car port is narrow and tall

with a steep roof as if it

were itself a Thai Wat.

It sits in back of Sawang’s

small compound, looking out on

square miles of lush rice fields

which always provide the gift

of an open, gentle breeze.

Sawang had to fell this giant

to build his house and ended up

in a gargantuan struggle to dig

out the stump.  The tree had

lived on this spot its entire life

and did not give up its claim

on the land easily. Finally,

Sawang, himself on the point of

collapse, made a deal to give

the stump a house and place of

honor – and  with that the tree

gave up its hold on the land.

Now, the stump sits among

flowers, candles, incense

sticks, and all the beauty the

Thais lavish on the dead.

Once a year, monks come and

offer prayers and apply squares

of gold leaf to the stump. 

If I had to describe it, I’d say the

stump looks like a giant anatomical model:

quite possibly of a human heart.

FG Aug 9, 2012

All rights reserved by the Author Forrest Greenwood