The Unconditional?

It was a bare tree. It stood on its own, in the middle of nowhere, with no sense of dignity or majesty. Birds never cared to sit on the endlessly split naked branches, and only someone totally insane would stop under it for shade. There were no fruits to lure, no flowers to perfume the air, no leaves to shed and crush underfoot. There were no nearby trees, no dwelling. No one ever cared to look at it, not even in sympathy. It was as though its existence didn’t matter. And yet it stood out, with no care in the world, come rain, storm or lightning, unperturbed, it had nothing more to lose.

Yet, when you look at this tree, it is not that it has lived its life, and now waiting for some machine to run over it and mark its end. It still sways with whatever is left of it, when the silent wind blows; it still quenches its thirst when the first of the showers fall. We ignore it so completely, yet it breathes, only to let out life, that is known to sustain us.