Roots

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“Prolonged exposure to nature gives one a sort of grammatica pardo*, a wisdom of the soil.”

~ Jim Harrison,  from A Really Big Lunch

*to be worldly-wise; know the ways of the world

In the cloister under
the canopy of the Mesquite
all life’s wisdom is here
in the symphony of the birdsong
wafting on the cool morning breeze.

 
A rare June dawn in the desert,
perfect for poetry; ripe for prayers.

 
Thin yellow leaves
drift from the tree
onto the open page
surrendering their wisdom.

 
We are like these leaves;
we sprout in our youth, verdant and clean
grow lush as we dance in the golden sun,
live our life in vibrant colors, blissful and naive.

But one day when we are old and fading
comes the blatant knowledge we’ve delayed
how small and insignificant we would be
without roots to our grounded tree.

 
Then death rides in on the back
of a furious summer wind
so we wither and yellow
die on the limb
fall from life’s tree, and return
to the mysterious dark place
from whence we came.

©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg
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