for Don

So gently, not a blade of grass is disturbed, you have extended your roots deep into the Earth.

I hear the rushing storm approach and turn to you for safety.

Pressing against your bark, I'm taken to the leaf-tips splattered by every raindrop, spun into dance by every blast of wind.

Stability, you whisper, is not in standing still, but is in loving play between rootedness and expansion, the Earth Star and the Light.