Hard thrust
you forced your way
through Her body
breaking layers of rock
penetrating Her surface
exposing Her under layers…
proudly erect
you stand
as a symbol
of raw power
coach
Beginnings
beginnings
so much still hidden
unrevealed
tender
held close
uncurling slowly
surely
revealing
layer after layer
of what might be
will be
yielding
strong
vital
alive
opening
unfolding
becoming
Ancient One
Ancient One,
your roots hold fast to the Earth drawing strength.
Your white hair
shimmers against the sun and speaks to me of wisdom.
Ancient One,
you rise through granite, claiming this space, standing ground.
Your gnarled branches reach out
across the rocks
holding Her close to you.
Old Wise One,
If I lay in your arms
will I be one with you?
Ancient One,
if I rest curled in your roots,
will I know wisdom too?
Ancient One,
for just this moment,
may I be with you?