Of Such Grain
He was as Lebanon cedar,
arms stretched wide
opposite directions,
looking the same,
moving differently—
one reaching forward,
providing;
the other,
at the back,
creating shade.
Every day he rose,
feet planted deep,
unshakable
in his purpose.
Patiently,
enduring
the changes in each season;
weathered brown
under the sun,
cracks soothed
by aromatic oil,
shining.
Time,
moving quietly
within the core,
mistaken
for the nature
of aging.
Gradually shrinking
in the sunlight,
his shadow
began to narrow.
Without knowing,
the blight came,
going through layers
of his majesty
before sinking
to the root,
splitting
the resilient protector.
Low moans
of agony,
a splintering crack,
then—
no more.
Resting now in cedar,
a pleasant fragrance
reaching out
from one end to the other;
knots within,
rich lines,
a strong beauty,
like
my cedar.
