I was caught up in the usual daily wrangle
for my attention among the images and stories
on my phone and the computer’s tangled
tries for some small measure of life’s glories.

Then I looked up from the bright screen
and saw the long elegant leaf lit by the sun.
The tributaries of its mysterious green
softened and focused me from many to one.

I lost my crazy mind in this living blade
and found this poem waiting there for me
in the simple power of its now where I stayed
for a tender eternal moment in its joyous jade sea.

When the Tree again is blowing
Written by Adam M. Snow

When the tree again is blowing,
the sky itself is flowing.
When the leaves are rustling 'gainst the wind,
the world itself comprehends -
the beauty which spawns from nature's womb;
the haunting beauty, the rose bud blooms.
The joy and treasures, only a child knows
- the true beauty of a blood red rose.
Life's full mystery, still we don't know -
just how far this beauty will go.
Ends of the Earth perhaps and forevermore;
to the sunset, setting on the open shore.