I like to sit among trees and cogitate.
Being with them, I become one of them;
For a brief moment, eternal like them.
Humbly, I look up, listen, and wait.
The clouds above give only hope of rain;
The sun, I trust, will shower me with light.
I find myself alive, tranquil, sane,
Even though I’ve one and a hundred blight.
My roots suck moisture from the mother, earth;
My arms, a home for birds of diverse feather.
I consider life from naught to birth,
Study contentment in good or foul weather.
Thank Goodness for trees which don’t ask for much;
They’re great natural tutors, in wisdom rich.
(1995; slightly revised, 2011)
I wake, perturbed, to the chatter of birds
Twittering their silly songs to the sun.
Silly birds, thus wasting their breath in vain,
Serving a servant devoid of sense.
Yet their fervent, impassioned prayers soon
Awaken in me a great urge to pray,
And I sing my Hallelujahs to Him
Who is the Master of the Universe.
I welcome, with open arms, the new day,
Breathe in the morning air without a curse.
Good creatures, birds! Got some pretty good sense
In their teeny-weeny heads. They surely set
An example, even for people with fame;
Could put Leibniz and Spinoza to shame.