Tendril of the Oak

Settled in below the morning fog
within the motion and noise,
I sit quietly gazing
at gray skies and summer green
as an old stone or rough-barked tree
finds center in the earth,
patience within unrest.
Angels protect this silence
for it roots to the heart of the world,
joining those caverns to the light above
and one slim tendril reaching out with peace
on the great oak of life.

 

 

 


Wearing Many Colors

Sunlight on rain soaked trees,
sounds of the city awakening,
letting go into the new day.
There are always troubles,
ask anyone who’s farmed.
Progress and promotion
are salesmen’s words.
The earth isn’t selling,
she doesn’t profit.
She stores in winter dark
and gives in spring green,
yields to summer sun,
returns with gold in autumn.
See her in the glistening dew
the lilt of first light breezes.
We could be sad or broken
by the ways we suffer
yet four winds are blowing
and the day rises to meet us.
Wearing our many colors
isn’t it time to ride out once more
and give the earth our joy?

 

 


Stained glass by Linda Ethier Studios