Posted by: Peadar Ban | February 28, 2010

Trees Are So Polite

The purpose of this
Is to let you know most trees
Corkscrew to the light

And ask the question
That should seem most obvious:
What do they avoid?

And the answer is
Just as obvious to light.
It is each other.

Polite, merely, trees
Yielding, giving way at once?
Rooted golden rules?


  1. To quote one we love:

    • Shucks. Thanks.

  2. Your insight
    about politeness
    struck a chord.

    In human aplication,
    I thought of it as
    toward fulfillment.

    Relative individuality
    focusing on
    and opening tward totality.

    Respect to others
    being most creative,
    benign, efficient
    and natural.

    So very nice
    that we observe
    with heart twinklings
    and tendrils of wonder.

    Children of God
    or chinese sages,
    accepting our vast
    and amazing universality.

    All the body,
    all given,
    all received.

    in gentle and various
    rhythms of being
    In heart`s harmonizing touch
    sweet most delicate
    Creations of love.

    Melting so comfortably
    in finest blissful fibers
    so softly charmed
    in source`s rarest light.

    A most dear statement
    of simplest fact.
    We share this divine feast
    which we are.

    Such a joyous home,
    our home,
    sweetest music`s laughter
    sensed on surfaces
    and of all,
    most heavenly,
    in knowing smiling eyes

    Now is the morning…

    • Hello Gerry,

      How delightful! I was listening to something Timothy Dolan said on a recent TV news program. I’ll paraphrase: The interviewer commented that he seemed a jolly fellow, and he replied that why yes he was, and why not? If we believe that Christ has risen, that Easter is real, why not! Why not, indeed..however it may appear from time to time. We do indeed share this divine feast.

      Now, I take my turn at bat:

      Now is the morning come; A wave of light breaking On the shore of day, Tide of delight filling All space above, around, Beyond the many places With every color and shape.

      And night? Oh, night rests Safe until sunset’s touch Awakens her and she Arises from star fields Leading velvet caped sleep, Mistress of mystery, Maker of song and dream, To dance again in me.



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