Everyday I watch those giants
Standing over me
Their roots sink down
Their arms reach up
Majestic, tall, and free.
Everyday I see those titans
Swaying in the breeze
They hold the ground
They touch the sky
Receiving nature’s deeds.
Everyday I gaze at my rivals
And all I want to be
Not stuck on the floor
Not saved by a roof
Not a small bonsai tree.
A flower Bursting through the ground Growing from a storm shower It’s edges nice and round From here to there And all around It’s petals were spread But now it’s dead New life will start from one befo
Would you mind looking through an old man’s desk? All this stuff here hasn’t been touched in ages: the stapler is dusty; the pens have dried. Why is there a calendar from 1986? Would you mind sorting
Peeking out from beneath a leaf, An orchid spike begins its upwards journey Towards the light above, slowly but surely. The fleeting sunlight, however brief, Guides it to the goal it seeks. It twists,
