Histories bark
little fingers trace
eight hundred years
nooks and veins trace
time.
An hour takes an eon
yet a year can go in a day
the lone giant stays static
micobiotic for adventurous types
wafting permanence.
Treasures come in many forms
some below our feet
I want for bigger eyes
for all I wish to greet.
There my boy
you stand there
I make him stay
we have walked this big hill
take your time
be still.
Why? That his call
and so I share
"its in the slow time given
where you show you really care".
Be slow my son
be slow to look
take your time
core connect
breath it in.
At the end
as spirit shed flesh
its the slow moments that linger
as your ridden of breath and beat.
Old giant
you will still stand
as will the memory
of this hug
this moment
this land.
Son you are my breath
this tree has given to me
squeeze it
love it
and plant many more
just for me.
