There is only today,
really just this moment
of gray cloud and May green
as tall trees luff in the breeze.

From our hidden core
rung tight with years
we feed new growth,
tender leaves open
and breathing.

The touch of life upon us
we struggle and strive
and move toward light
while still we sing.

Our roots release
into the high top
the songs of earth,
the mortal cries
of what must pass,
our unspoken joy
yet rising.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

8 Responses

  1. “…the mortal cries
    of what must pass…..”

    Impermanence is certain
    Let joy be spoken…now

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