If all you have is a single tree
Beneath which to sit or stand,
And all beyond is a
Nondescript, ordinary land.
No mountain draws you eye
To its upward soaring crest,
No river rolls at your feet
Churning at a river’s best.
And you don’t even have a hill
On which to contemplate.
Your world seems so “samish”
Nothing your quick mind to bait;
Thank God each day
For His warm rising sun,
For its slipping upward, then
Downward till it’s day is fully run.
And enjoy its change of shadow,
First great then lessening through noon,
Then an opposite shadow grows,
Filling space slowly or soon.
The daily sun gives the plain,
The simple landscape, though flat,
A lustrous changing, almost living.
Friend, enjoy where ever you’re “at.”
– eab, 5/3/07
Separate-Holy 