The Meaning of Life
I sat under an oak tree
And looked up
To find the meaning of life
Over there, in every branch
The core of life in inflorescenes
Each with thousands of pollens
with the potential
To give rise to thousand of oak trees
Just like the dusts fron the pine cones
And year after year
The same thing happens
In every spring
But not an oak seedling in sight.
Over there
A small girl
Oblivious to the wars
Oblivious to the crime and punishment
Oblivious to the hardship of making a living
Jumping over a tiny square
And giggling.
((*.*))
October 10, 2003 |