The Tree of the First Retreat

 

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Beckoning, she sits,

Smiling with her huge muscular trunks, reaching out,

Calling you to come and rest from the scorching mid-day sun.

“I am here, you are welcome”

 

She calls from the motionless leaves,

Exposing her back, arched in a morning stretch,

As this lover glances towards the beloved,

Still asleep in the bed.

 

“Come and rest in me, and I will give you peace.”

The silent eruption.

 

“Come rest” the leaves refrain, as the pilgrims stop.

And hear the almost silence call

… of inner peace.

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