The plant takes root and blossoms,
Into a sturdy tree,
The flowers herald the arrival,
Of young fruit upon the tree.
When the fruit ripens,
The branches bend down low,
and when the time is right,
The tree just lets it go.
The trees in all their wisdom,
Know that life is change,
that eternity is the here and now,
And love is for giving away,
So they celebrate summer
with laden branches,
Fall with a riot of color,
Winter with its starkness,
And spring with new green leaves.
Let’s take a leaf,
Out of nature’s book,
And learn to live and love;
Celebrate the splendor of life,
Through all its highs and lows.
1 comment:
Way to go P. The writings getting better and better.
This was something I wrote in Fukche one winter and was called "The last leaf of winter". Location makes all the difference!
There is one leaf on the tree
outside my window.
The last one.
One little beacon.
Torn and split bark,
the hurting insides showing.
The tree stands mute.
She knows,
There is a measure of futility,
in all grand gestures.
Kul
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