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.