The young sapling bowed its head
. . . Humble and shy
Full of his master’s gracious respect
. . . Wishing to reply
You are my mentor and noble lord
. . . Offering the reason why
The gnarled old tree lifted its head
. . . Weary and wise
Fully conscious of his words in reply
. . . Not wishing to surmise
You are my son and loved one
. . . Both reached for the skies
when an old tree lowers itself before the smaller one, it is not only the priceless 'parent-child' relationship so nicely reflected here, but mostly a tribute of respect (if not to say 'the sacrificial ritual') to the common grand ancestors. . . Are there dinosaurs among the plants? ;)) Cheers, alex
There is a Zen quality in this, John, that I like. "Plants (or small trees) are the young of the world, vessels of health and vigor; but they grope ever upwards towards consciousness. The trees are imperfect men, and seem to bemoan their imprisonment, rooted in the ground." Ralph Waldo Emerson. Well done. Peace... r
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Rebecca
Love ya!
Jane
Ron
lovely, compelling, well said
Never Stop Writing!
m