Yūgen

 

After rain has come and gone

I sit a while beneath the tree,

the one my Father sat upon

Where once he may have thought of me.

 

Slowly, Sunbeams dry the bark

She weeps her raindrops, free to fall.

I stay there sometimes when its dark

To listen to wild natures call.

 

But always when I rise to go

once all the reminiscing’s done,

I’m clearer in the things I know

Of what is past and what may come.

 

Though under Skies as grey as Slate

dull days may shade my memory,

No darkened cloud could span so great

To dim my eyes of that one tree. 

 

2 thoughts on “Yūgen

  1. They say you shouldn’t delve too deeply into what you write seeking hidden meaning. I find that unusual as I do a great deal of thinking before I commit to text. I understand though that upon reading what is written it is possible for things to be revealed to an author they may not have been aware of. I wrote this purely about a tiny window of contemplation beneath a tree. Reviewing it now in the context of my Fathers dementia I see many other things. I regard trees as sacred living entities, viewing them as symbols of stoicism and fortitude. I see forests as symbols of rejuvination and replenishment. It’s refreshing to walk into something you think you knew to then find something new.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.