I could never hold the wisdom that this River Red Gum holds
I am simply not big enough, nor will I ever get so old
I sit amongst its roots and accept that I am small
Its branches frame the sky so I don’t have to hold it all
Its waxy leaves they twinkle in the sun and in the rain
They fall and die and rot and then become the tree again
Purple, orange, white, what will the sun paint you today?
While you conduct the life below with the pattern of your shade
Eggs of owls and parrots stowed in your secret nooks and cracks
I wish that I was you sometimes, I wish I was so solid
But here I am, a little seed, a mobile hominid (that means human)
I, not so sophisticated, bones wrapped up in skin
I leak, I break, I tear, I burn, I can’t grow back a limb!
I cannot sit so still to ride the Earth around its axis
But sitting still and wisdom are two things that I can practice