It was 1962, Wichita, Kansas. My Dad surveyed the front yard—a very big front yard, a grim look on his face. "Weeds," he pronounced sullenly, as if our front yard had become the equivalent of a ... [+]
sharing breath
with passersby
blind to the beauty
the abundant life
the resolute purpose
the natural stillness
standing tall
reaching out
the playful leaves
sometimes too skittish
but always present
sometimes plucked
for an unknown purpose
people pass
the tree ever present
then for a moment
the creator speaks
the world awakens
the wind whispers
look
with passersby
blind to the beauty
the abundant life
the resolute purpose
the natural stillness
standing tall
reaching out
the playful leaves
sometimes too skittish
but always present
sometimes plucked
for an unknown purpose
people pass
the tree ever present
then for a moment
the creator speaks
the world awakens
the wind whispers
look