FullSizeRender-9[…] I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes, waiting for the burst – which came almost instantaneously:

– Our talks should be different! You know? Different. Like, when you come to me with that long face and I just know that something’s wrong, you should just talk to me and tell me about it. I mean, for heaven’s sake, I know you since you were a child, since you took your first steps towards me and hugged me. I felt you there, at my feet, a little being with so much potential, looking at me with those big round eyes and laughing with all your heart…you were such a marvel…and you still are, but somewhere on the way you lost your confidence in me. I used to be the keeper of all your secrets – and now you’re ashamed to talk to me, as if talking to me would make you some sort of a freak…Talking to me doesn’t make you a freak. Sharing your inner world with me doesn’t make you a freak. Feeling together with me doesn’t make you a freak. But your fear and shame do.

I opened my eyes, trying to ignore the tears streaming along my cheeks – how I had missed that voice…and how much truth it carried…I wanted to mumble a feeble “I’m sorry”, but then it spoke again:

– I don’t want you to be sorry. I just want you to open your eyes and see me for what I truly am – for what I’ve always been: your friend. And if you don’t believe me, look at me and remember the countless times when you ran to me and gifted me with your tears, your laughter and your thoughts. I still remember each and every moment we shared.

And while I touched the tree’s bark, letting my heartbeats resonate between my palm and the old trunk, its leaves caressed my cheek and it concluded gently:

– Your most loyal friend I am, not just the old oak in your father’s garden.[…]

© Liliana Negoi


I am a freelance writer, poet, content editor, and blogger. I also manage "The BeZine" and its associated activities and The Poet by Day, an info hub for writers meant to encourage good but lesser-known poets, women and minority poets, outsider artists, and artists just finding their voices in maturity. The Poet by Day is dedicated to supporting freedom of artistic expression and human rights. Email for permissions, commissions, or assignments.

4 thoughts on “Bonds

  1. Wonderful, Jamie. We’ve had humans, dogs and cats and now a grand old oak tree! I love this. How mature need a child be to converse with an oak, rather like Naomi’s Rock. Sometimes, believing someone is there, but knowing they won’t answer you back, makes it easier to resolve life’s little challenges 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks, John. This is Liliana’s lovely piece. I just forgot to switch back to “Bardo” when I was posting it for her. I’ll let folks know they should look for comments.


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