The acorn like an egg sets free the will to grow,
And they uncurl their branching wings,
Spreading wide, fulfilling their being a moment at a time.
They inhabit the deep yet reach for the light up high,
And bark-like scales are gleaming armour
To guard the great spirit of wisdom within.
But then one night the earth is so relaxed, the skies so wilful
That in the midst of dark they bow their crown and slowly,
Bending downwards with a sigh, the great beasts fall
Making the grounds tremble when with a crash
The creatures, accepting, let go of all strife.
When morning comes wearily, grey and burdened,
The rain finds the limbs splayed like bones splintered,
And the drops running down the creatures’ arched back
Are like tears mourning a greater destiny that
Has so found its end.
©jsmorgane (Feb 2014)