Peace in a Tree Girl

Lying quietly in my bed, night is spread across my blankets, cool, and airy. My window frames are frosted, and the huge pines laden with snow. I am trying to find within myself an image of peace to focus on. My mind wanders, and I am thinking of all the things I love, listing them, and stopping when I come to trees. In a tree I find a picture of "peace". I see a girl as a tree. Her feet become the roots, resting deep in the dark, damp soil. I think of how I love touching wetted soil, how it seems so fresh and dirty at once.

Her body is the bark of the tree, smooth and dark brown, like chocalate. The leaves, various shades of red and orange are her hair, strands and strands of leaves so long they almost touch the grassy landscape. Her eyes are knots in the bark, brown like the tree itself. She has no mouth, she is silent, forever watching, mute. I imagine her arms are the branches, reaching upward, to the sky. She stands, rooted in deep into the ground, happy to be feeling the earth, being part of the earth.

What are these images, why are they special, something we remember?