THE ROOT OF THIS TREE

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They found her

Weeping under the Ancient Olive Tree. 

They watched her until her breath simmered. 

Startled, she looked up at them

And said I have no more tears. 

They sat down beside her. 

And all of them listened to the Oud music floating in from afar. 

Her eyes grew dim and closed. 

One of them began to chant.

The roots of this tree are fed by rigor.

The water is composed of ritual and practice. 

Within it, is held

Discipline. 

That's why it's clear.

The place where this tree resides is called home

The earth cantillates, invites it to safety,

Singing softly

Embrace the retreat and go deep.

That's why it's dark and warm.

The tree, like its kin, the iceberg,

Holds all its mystery within.

Unlike the iceberg, it stays put. 

Except to swing with the wind

and to admire the sun.

Let us be. 

Let us be. 

Let us be. 

Her tears began to flow again.