Sits the elder of trees
Fog acsends to the mountain bends
On a cliff where it must appease
Blades of grass who raise their voice
Complaining to the silent clouds
Solitary flowers who give ear
In small crowds
The single tree who sits as sentinel
Is never regarded
Rather it's exsistence is resented
It is constantly bombarded
Out in the open it fends for itself
Resisting the wind and the rain
It's roots hold it steadily
As it observes the distain
There is no contempt or aversion
Except from the others who bear
They seek shelter under the competition
Never giving a care
The elder tree looks down upon them
Knowing his place by the watery fount
He is the sentinel who watches over all
Equality to all is tantamount
~Moses~
© 2006 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved
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