Here I am, sitting at this lunch table
Looking around, everything seems in its perfect place.
Yet, when I look deeper I know it’s not that simple, or stable.
Each person, all of them with a hurricane inside but an unchanged face.
It tares me apart,
Knowing that those all around me
Have a terror in their hearts
That I can’t do a damn thing about, except, be.
Then I look at the trees again
And realize how they do just that.
Regardless of the season, they are present and sustain.
No needs for wise words or chit chat.
I aspire to be like the trees.
That strong beautiful existence found almost everywhere, putting everything at ease.