the banyan tree roots spread their fingers

and burrow down into the earth

grasping hold of soil and life

as the trunk shoots up toward the sky

the branches and leaves are bathed in sunlight

reaching upward and outward

a canopy under the clouds



quietly a tendril begins to drop

from one branch then another

thickening as it travels back down toward the earth

swinging gently in the wind

until it brushes the dirt below and begins to dig again

roots re-emerge and anchor back down

into safety and sustenance



as a child I rode my bike into the museum grounds 

through winding pathways 

surrounded by bronze statues and clusters of banyan trees

I stopped and came to rest under my favorite one

so close to the Sarasota Bay

that I breathed in the salty air

and listened to the restful laps of the tides

I would climb in the tree

swing on its ropes

and smile



as a child this was my safe space

as a teen my friends and I would gather there

talking and laughing and growing ever closer

on the evening of our senior prom

we chose the grass beside the tree

to lay down blankets

and eat together 

as an adult when I visit 

my hometown and my tree

I smile through wistful tears and still feel safe



I’m beginning to understand

why the banyan tree is unlike the others

throughout its long life it grows more trunks

reaching back down into the ground

to create a powerful connection 

between earth and sky

sunlight enters through its leaves

but the rain pours down into the dirt 

and enters through its roots



the multiple knobby trunks 

create a consummate natural beauty

and a united community

where a child can sense its protection

a place where emotions can be released

and welcomed without judgment

gently wrapped up tight

and held safe 

in a tree’s arms