Being a Tree

When the earth buckles and heaves

under my feet,

when I feel everything go topsy-turvy

and slipping away,

I settle my roots in

for the long haul

and practice

Being A Tree.

When all around me are losing their centres,

needing some strength to lean on,

I reach out a limb,

however tired and weakened by age

and dimmed by thwarted hope,

breathe in, breathe out,

Breathing Peace,

though the maelstrom roars

ever closer.

If the waters close over my head,

so be it.

I have done my best.

I can do no more.

One day at a time,

holding steady,

breathing peace, 

hanging on,

settling in

for the long haul -

Being A Tree.

For Shay's prompt at Real Toads: I Feel the Earth Move. In this dark week when the impossible has happened to the Big Picture, I also have  ones close by walking through their own wastelands. Trees do get tired as they age. But we endure.