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| Photograph by J. Trent |
The Sage
By John Trent
Alone he stands in sylvan silence
His scars are old and deep
His wrinkles tired and gray beard long
Much wisdom his soul doth keep
Years have passed, without my notice
He whispered answers I could not hear
I wasn’t ready. My mind was splintered
Quietly waiting another year
Silently sitting, his bows embraced
My mind was desperate for serenity
The sage softly whispered, “The message is simple,
The answer you seek is within you”
A small twig emerged with leaves of green
From a scar that was old and deep
Our hearts repair and our souls return
The wisdom of a tree, I did reap
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