the spring crocus greeted the sun
purple mouth open drinking in the morning
with its golden tongue

beside the newly sprouted child
an old oak leaf rested
weathered
becoming the soil –

hearing the baby's silent song
that went

the light is now part of me
I am new and wonderful

oak leaf asked, what about me

looking at the tattered leaf
the infant said, you are boring and lifeless
what have I to do with you

ah, said the oak
you've been born on the back of my fallen comrades
providing you with nourishment--
we, too, once waved the light

realizing its family bond
with the leaf
the earth sproutling leaned
fondly toward the fertile soil
as the oak leaf soaked back
to its
mother








3.3