What Lingers in the Mind?

What questions please children so new to this world?
Do you know where the bird flies?
Do you know why the sun dies?
Do you know what the clock times?
Do you know?
Do you know?
What questions catch youth betwixt and between?
           Is life really fair to both high and to low?
Where’s the grey in the palette of stark black and white?
Can I find my own way, my own road, my own home?
 My own space?
 My own time?
What questions haunt adults in the soul of their days?
           Where is the meaning in my day-to-day grind?
Why will you hold me and set me aside?
How do I play catch and release when trapped between:
hopeful youth?
beloved aging?  
Stay tuned, dear reader, for the next installment that answers the question of just what lingers
in the wise mind of an elder.
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The Wisdom of Trees

A friend asked me
the other day
what I thought —
if trees could talk —
what would they say?
Trees are poetry in motion;
they speak in light
in shadow
in whispers on the wind;
sinking down
into the ground
to find the strength within.
Seasons come and
on they go
and yet the tree remains;
changing shape and hue
turning leaf to bloom,
and round the season comes again.
Their limbs embrace
a world without
and keep a world within.
What could we learn
you and I
from trees that grace
the land and skies?
The fashion of stillness,
of deliberate breath?
The grounding of life’s magic
in mystery, even death?
The grace of covering shelter
of homes freely given
of food shared
and food taken?
The patience to wait
out the inevitable storm?
For even in the midst
of such destruction
seeds of new life
are generously sown.
What would the trees teach us
if only we listened?