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The King

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Dignity in the concrete stood out among the grain
Where the world might gawk, but he took no notice.
He greeted the clouds as they trotted past his head
And drank the rain long before it touched the earth.
He reached deep into the earth and grasped its treasures
And enveloped it in his fallen warmth when the snows fell.
There, I thought, was one content in his immobility.



But when the winds came



He was restless.



He tossed to the East



And clutched the tail of the wind



Filled with an ancient wanderlust



Stretching toward the sunrise




Yearning to follow.




His roots held him fast.
When the winds had past, he was there,
Upright and still, joyful where he stood.
He nodded to the world, nobly, as befits a king;
A king standing among the grain, dignity in the concrete.



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