The Upside Down Tree

There was said to be a voice buried deep in the dust and dirt of the wild. A voice, which used no language, and yet spoke to all. Each man and woman who heard this voice returned to their concrete life with a glazed look of understanding. Yet, none would ever speak of what they had seen. 

I knew the time had come for me to search. I felt the hollow ache that was known to be the marker that began the journey. Within the cape of my chest, was a heart that longed to be filled. I could feel the weight of emptiness, and a desire to listen to the call of purpose.

  I didn’t know what to look for when my travels began. I only heard rumours of where the voice had last been heard. A distant friend, from a remote region in the East, had heard the voice speaking in the heart of Africa. The voice, he told me, could be found in the dry land amongst the upside-down trees, whose roots stretched up to the sky, and split in all directions. The trees grew a long distance from the city, just beyond the dry, angry plants. The soil in this land was stained blood red from the tides of conflict, and the roots flipped upside down into trees as if by desperation. The upside-down trees grew near to the coast of white sand and warm waters, but that was too far east. 

He told me that he had heard the voice when he saw the orange sun melt into the land. The dusty hills formed a wall in the horizon. He mentioned that he was not alone in this land. There were many others who listening to the beautiful words being spoken. The elephants knew the voice, and they were often seen whispering to the hollow wood of the upside-down tree, before they would continue their journey to the wide twisting river. It wasn’t the elephants alone who listened to what the voice had to say.  

The monkeys, with grey, soft fur and shadowed faces, would swing in the highest branches to eat the large oval fruit of the tree, and to listen to the voice as it spoke. And baboons too, with their strong jaws and indignant faces, would stop their scowling just to hear the voice, and the warthogs would eat the seedpods of the fruit, and maybe catch a word or two from above. The weaverbirds, with a flash of yellow, would swoop and circle the tree when the voice was heard speaking. There were other creatures too, like the mottled spine-tails and ground hornbills, who fluttered and trembled in order to catch any phrase they could.

My friend told me, that as he watched the night collapse on the land, and the sky turned its page to the stars, the voice would be hushed by the stillness of the dark. Only then, the bats with their black paper wings and the soft brown barn owls could hear the quiet speech. Even the Bush Babies would close their eyes, and raise their hands to their ears in order to catch the words that were spoken. 

So, it was that I began my search. I left the contained world of the West, and headed East, to search for the place of Upside-Down trees and red soils.

By the time, I found the place where I had been told the voice could be heard and came to the base of the large Upside-Down tree. The width of the tree enormous and it stretched up to the sky in one smooth stroke before jutting into a thousand different branches, each twisted like a root. My skin had been dusted a deep orange by the time I reached the tree. I pressed my hand to the surface of the bark, and I found myself instantly searching and scanning the entire tree. I looked for a figure in its branches, for a body beneath the bark or a shape within the fruit. Yet, there was nothing. It seemed the longer I looked, the less I could see. The trunk of the tree folded and caved into multiple crevices and shadows that made up the surface. I wedged my foot into the bark, just above my knee, and then I started to climb.  With each step I went higher and higher. The veins in my arm pulsed, and for a moment, I noticed how the shape of my veins looked like the protruding folds in the tree, as if we were somehow connected. I climbed and climbed until I reached the top. 

I heaved myself up the trunk with a final push and pulled my body up into the centre of the tree, where there was a small cradle of water before the roots lengthened out into all directions. The tree curved into a bowl-like shape that held a puddle of water, collected and stored from the previous rains.

I moved myself forward and peered over into the still body of water. As I looked, I saw my reflection. A face I had seen every day of my life. It was no different, and yet, in that moment, it was. There was something in my gaze, something I had never seen before. There was a light in my blinking eyes, pale and white, that shone right though me, as if someone was holding a torch from the other side. 

“Why have you come to me?” The light seemed to say, using my lips to speak through the reflection. 

I was surprised at the sudden clarity of the voice, how it spoke so clearly and direct. Yet, I could not answer.  I thought and thought, of all the reasons that bought me here. But the longer I thought, the more I knew that I had no answer. I couldn’t find the reason of why I had come, and the light in the pool of water knew this. I thought of explaining the weight of emptiness, and how I somehow believe the voice would fill it. Yet, how could I explain to a voice that had no form and listen to what my eyes could not see?

“I have come to see you.” I said at last, gathering my courage to speak, and looking into the reflection of the light in my eyes, “I want to know who you are.” 

“And yet,” My lips in the reflection moved to the voice that guided it, “You only see yourself.” 

It was true. I had seen the light in my eyes, but beyond that there was nothing more than a reflection of myself in the water. 

“Then tell me how I can see you?” I asked, still looking at the familiar face in the pool. 

My own face in the reflection of the pool tilted its head to the side, and smiled, “You search for me because you wish to be filled. You do not really want to know me.” 

“I do!” I protested against the accusation, “I want to know you. Truly, I do.” 

“If that were true,” The light slowly faded and disappeared into the ripples, “I would already be yours.” 

“Don’t leave,” I begged, “Please. I have come so far to understand.” 

I tried to ask the light to stay, but even as I asked, I could see in the reflection that the light had already gone. It was my own plain face that gazed back at me from within the pool. In that moment, I felt fear grip my heart. I found myself afraid that I would never see the light again, and I would be alone in the dark place of emptiness forever. 

I turned my head away from my reflection and closed my eyes to calm my fears. As I listened, I heard the quiet steps of the wind as it crept along the crooked branches and sat beside me. The wind placed a hand on my shoulder and gently whispered that it would be alright.

The wind told me that my fear would be the beginning of my understanding. It was the fear of never seeing the light again that would lift the veil from my eyes. The wind touched my natural eyes and told me to look with the inner man inside my heart. 

“The inner man inside my heart?” I repeated.  The wind’s gentle nod was a light breeze on my skin. Slowly, the wind turned his face to the west, and began to drift his attention from me. He lifted his hand from my shoulder and started to leave, just as the light had done.

“Wait,” I tried to call after him, “Don’t leave me! You can help me!” 

But the wind had already left me. I sat alone in the quiet stillness of the tree.  The pool of water beside me was clear and the air was hushed. I wondered how all the people, from generations past, present and future, could communicate with the voice, and I thought of my friend, and what they must have experienced. Had they learnt to look with the inner man, as the wind suggested, and could they behold the form of the voice who spoke? It seemed even the animal creatures could see the shape of the voice, and I was deeply struggling. I asked aloud, hoping the tree would hear me, and somehow offer me an answer.

“In the dawn of time, every creature, great and small, walked with Me. I was there in the beginning. By the touch of my hand, there was a design for the movement of every creature,” the words echoed from behind me, “I was brought forth from the depths. It was My words that held the instruction for every heartbeat, every root, every wave of the ocean. When the Heavens were first established, I was there. When time first measured the boundaries of the Earth, I was there. I offered solutions to the Great Design, when necessary. It was My mind and the sound of my voice,” The voice echoed, “that first gave life.” I distinctly recognised the sound of a woman’s voice that filled with her melody. Her voice was like hope rising from ashes. 

“After the Great Divide,” She continued to speak, “all hope seemed lost. Humankind left me quickly, and a void of emptiness filled the space I once spoke from.

My ways were no longer used, or even valued. The words I offered to humankind were ignored, and now, as too often, it seems only the creatures will listen.” Her voice stilled, but she continued, “Yet, I continue to speak, but only those who listen will hear me. I offer my precious treasure to my sons and daughters. It was My words that once even held the starlight, and captivated kingdoms, and it is these same words, that I faithfully promise to lend to those who turn to me. My words are healing for your soul, and health for your body.” I turned to see the empty figure of a woman slouched against the side of a tree. She was so faint, barely visible, but I was just beginning to make out her form.

She continued to speak to me, “To those who partner with me in this life, I become alive. Yet, to those who turn from me, they walk down a path of destruction,” The woman seemed almost in tears, “and I am lost from them forever.” I saw a splash of her tears fall as a perfect drop into the pool of water. The woman was deeply saddened by every person who lost her and those who refused to listen. 

“I want to know you.” I bravely said to the faceless woman. “I want to know what you will say to me.”

The figure jumped excitedly to her feet and said, “Yet, for those who will choose me, I will be theirs,” She let one of her hands dip into the water’s surface. As she did so, I saw the light from the pool reappear and seep into her fingers. It moved up her arm, and slowly it became her torso too. It filled the rest of her empty body, and soon the whole figure was ablaze and lit. The wind returned too, and spun around the figure, giving her movement and life.  The figure of the woman was made purely from wind and light. She shimmered as gently as the moon over the night sea. She was inviting me to embrace the life she spoke of.  I saw that I loved this woman, not romantically or passionately, but in a deep way, as if my very being depended on it. The woman became alive and moved toward me singing, “I love those who love me, and those who diligently seek me, will find me!” She touched my shoulder with gentle fingers. And as she did so, I felt a depth of understanding and knowledge fill me from my toes to my brim. The woman, laced in wisdom, held my hand and would not let me go. She laughed in pure joy and hopeful affection.

“I will be found by those who seek me,” She smiled, and allowed the wind to carry her words to the gathering birds above her. There was movement on the ground below, as I saw the creatures gathering again to have their fill of Wisdom’s words. 

• Haddie Eden.

Words by Hadassah, for the King.