Methuselah The Wise Tree – Talk & Poem

Hello,

I'd love to share this story and poem with you.

About a person although now a tree,

Known as Mesizala.

So it's called Methuselah the Wise.

4,

800 years ago,

Methuselah was a sacred woman who connected with the wisdom of our Mother Earth.

And knew that As humans,

If we continue to connect with this wisdom,

It would come forward and help us realize that we're more than just the people who live here.

That that wisdom grounds us and holds us.

She made the decision to become a tree.

So now she is 4,

800 years old and can be found in the White Mountains of California as a great basin,

This is called a pine tree.

And can be visited there.

So I'd like to share this story with you through poetry that I wrote.

Lethuselah the wise.

On an ancient plain and a land before home.

Were crafted from wood an old woman,

Methuselah.

Set out on a long walk.

Now known as The Walk.

Of time.

The walk of time she was called to a place where the hills were set high above the valley floor.

Here she planted her roots,

Knowing that she would never leave this place.

Again.

Nor would she keep her human form.

Of which it did not matter one iota to her.

She carried inside of her all those things humans need to keep their heart.

Whole and their souls shining brightly.

Like shooting stars across the spilled ink night.

Here's where Methuselah sat under the constellation of Orion.

His warrior spirit guarding her as she transformed from human to tree.

After night.

The wind blew fierce across the hilltop and tossed Methuselah's white speckled hair wild about her weathered face until it stood out end to end electrified.

Each day her skin grew thick with the sun's heat.

And our arms and legs harden.

Like steel.

Hundreds of years passed.

And all that time Methuselah.

Whose die had been cast,

Kept the knowledge of the earth and how at the center of everything.

Existed.

No throne did she ever need,

Knowing she was already part of everything.

The sky was her shelter.

The land,

Her home.

Slowly.

Slowly.

Her skin turned to braided bark,

Her torso to the trunk of a tree,

Her wild hair to branches,

And after five thousand years.

.

.

With twisted spine,

Methusel reigns as the oldest queen.

Of trees.

And if she were born today,

A modern chick.

Her theme song might sound like that queen bee reigning over all she sees.

Now listen here,

It's wisdom she bears.

If you are lucky enough.

To meet her and if you are approached with respect and care.

Remember to bow deeply.

She just might gift you with the words from the wind.

And share with you her ancient.

Toothless.

So thank you for being here with me.

With Methuselah the Wise.

The wise human who was born.

And the wisdom of the tree.

Who is here for us.

To remind us.

Our existence.

That is here slowly,

Slowly,

Slowly gathered together.

To always have it within us.

Thank you for joining me Have a beautiful day.

Namaste.