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I saw them standing tall in a line
Full of yellow unripe bunches
Of dates hung beside the highway
To be soft and sweet and nourishing
Like the year that has just passed by
They are smooth and splendid
They have not changed in their bounty or beauty
Still they are what they were
Not professing the content only
The mystery of coming on the surface
Silently with those bunches of succulence
Only to give and empathize and be in charge of
The life that has to be lived
In all its conflicts contradictory configurations
With love and compassion and selflessness
After the arrival the birds are perched
On those bunched-branches
Eyes rooted to the land,
Busy making a nest on those
Tall trees gazing at
The expanse of the blue sea. |
