And does a tree – just any tree –
React with mild frustration
Because there’s no one there to see
Its boughs’ defoliation?
Or does it just get on with it –
An instance of pure knowing –
And undertake whatever’s fit,
No matter where it’s going?
Well, I’m much like that woody plant –
Inert to others’ seeing –
I neither bother nor enchant
But concentrate on being.
And so I pass a thousand nows
Beneath the tree’s denuded boughs.
Photo by Layne Lawson on Unsplash
