Ode to the trees

Laying down on startled grass. I imagine the trees talking in spurts. They say this is my home undaunted, Survival depends on the rains. Yet, you'll not lay down near me when my soil(soul) is wet. Yet, I say I do not abandon you. I simply get too flooded with a noisy mind. Thoughts disperse in circles. Dearest tree, be with me. Forgive me, if I calculated my own discomfort in the rains that feed you. Won't you speak to me, Even when your leaves are dry.

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  • Under a tree the Buddha-to-be
    came into this world, an orphan.
    Under a tree he came to be free
    when Mara was confounded.
    Between two trees he left this world
    where we still weep without him.
    Amidst the trees I call his name
    hoping my soul will find him.

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