Sitting in its bowery shade,
I relax against the old tree.
I feel silent reassurance
Permeate the air around us:
A slow calm aura of confidence
Born of radical connection.

A living, breathing extrusion;
More of the earth than upon it.
The semblance of eternity,
Changes slower than perception,
Illusory stasis when seen through
The quick shutter of our short lives.

Part of me wants such attachment
To my home – anchored fast – roots deep,
Gripping strongly without effort.
I envy the regularity
Of its natural existence:
Day follows day, blurs into one.

Does the tree in turn feel envy
At the longevity of rock
Against which human endeavours
Are so fleeting? Vistas of time
Viewed through myopic eyes soon blur,
All distant objects lost in mist.

To be alive is to be quick.
Thoughtfulness replaced by motion
As we rush through life, eyes fixed
On the future. Peripheral
Vision unheeded, we ignore
The richness of our here and now.

I stopped to think, reflect. A time
To open up my senses to
My present. Let the future come
Later. For these precious moments
I am the tree, I am the rock,
I just am, now is forever.

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