I am at rest.
\nThe tree I have talked about
\nfor days has been planted.
\nI am relieved,
\nlike a father,
\nto have something to hug.
\nThe sky is crocheted with green.
\nThere is a place
\nto play under again.
\nWhat has been taken by storm
\nis brought back.<\/p>\n
Trees are sacred journals.
\nThey are the scripture
\nof the past.
\nIn the sundial of their hearts
\nwe see the breadth
\nof our passage through time.
\nRemembering shadows and shade,
\nmornings and evenings
\nof glory and regret.
\nThe world as it returns to life
\nenlarged and beautiful.<\/p>\n
The beautiful is eternal
\nand evergreen.
\nLike sunshine gilding the surfaces
\nof walls and ceilings.
\nI feel the delight
\nof a guardian
\nfor the wonderful.
\nThis season is a harbinger
\nof seasons coming,
\nlife resolved.
\nAn answer to why
\nthe world is here.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am at rest. The tree I have talked about for days has been planted. I am relieved, like a father, to have something to…<\/p>\n