Millenniums have unfolded yet his ancient soul lives on. No one can tell how long has it been except for the universe that is infinite beyond one’s understanding. There’s a lifetime where he becomes a star only to be reborn as an ant in the next or a grass or even a firefly. He can no longer recall.
Some lifetimes are too short; they end before the universe could blink. Some lifetimes are too long that the universe needs to interfere so that the he can go on with the next. But this time, he is a tree, stationary and peaceful. He is beautiful with those multiple limbs; he is graceful with those leaves and rare flowers. He can go on with this lifetime maybe for more than a hundred years. If he gets lucky and no once chops him for timber, he can stay for another hundred.
Being a tree is special; he can see the world transform; he can enjoy different seasons as the mood of the earth changes; he can enjoy the sunrise and the sunset; he can map the stars and constellations; he can even count the number of shooting stars at night.
Being a tree is becoming a messenger, especially if he gets a hug from another soul in flesh. He can deliver a person’s message to the recipient, maybe to the person’s only love. Who knows? But the tree knows. Only he knows because he alone and the other trees know the secret.
As a tree, he can share the energy channelled by the universe. Mostly it heals; sometimes, it can poison the earth.