No grand designer came and made a tree
but grand designers come behind and speak
the majesty, a perfect form, and it breaks
The skyline, holds the sand, and feeds
A million lives smaller than the eye
And a million more, the size of thumbs,
And how many more, while deaf, mute, numb
Simply being, standing still, eating sky
Oh greatness where the name resounds,
The pictures kept a thousand years and more
The stories told that make new story round
And round and round until the echo bores
The flash of lights, the grand gestures, the world
And yet the trees stand, in quiet, unperturbed
No comments:
Post a Comment