Saturday, November 12, 2016

The Oaks

The Oaks
I cannot pour out
What I do not contain
I cannot give away
What I do not possess
So why do I continue
Shaking this empty vessel
As hard as I possibly can
Trying to get the last drop
Out of something that was empty
So very long ago
What am I doing?
Don’t I know that I will tire in the shaking
To the point where I drop my jar
Shattering the ceramic everywhere
Scattering the good afar
Time to rest my vessel beneath the rain
Time to sit beneath the ethereal flow
Time to place the acorns in the earth
Water them so they will grow
For fruitfulness has never come
From awkward and vicious consumption
Of that which was meant to glow
I feed on everything that doesn't matter 
I discard everything that does
This one thing I know
There must be a vast reversal
There must be a complete and total overhaul
I must place my busy-ness in the ground to rest
And allow my rest to grow
In this way I will see and know
The wonder of the oaks


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