post card 1: dear mr. beaver

i hope this postcard reaches you in time
and hope no ogre steals it
should it get lost along the way
don't worry a bit
for i asked the wind to whisper to you
these very same words i wrote
...

i spent a day just watching
the rest of the world go by
i dilly dallied, skipping and humming
but now i'm here beneath the blue tree
where the birds are in hiding
and the wind is singing a hymn of peace

i'll leave this mustard seed behind
and hope we find it again someday
i'll ask the birds to watch over it
and the tree to hide it from mr.rabbit
it is buried safely in the burrows
as it waits for a decade of tomorrow

surely the tree will age
and the birds would have left by then
but it will never be lost
and it will never whither.
as it watches the changing season
as it waits patiently for us

as it grows deeper
in thought, will and understanding
it will only be rooted
in a steadfast love
that wills to wait
that wills to see that distant tomorrow

until then,
i'll let the mustard seed grow
into the loveliest tree it can be
with welcoming arms
and shaded love
with all the sunshine it could take

until then
mister musty awaits
for our coming back.

-------
from one end to another
it has traveled to impart a message
to witness the shared tears and joy
but after such a moment
everything is put behind
where the past is just the past
where tomorrow is waiting to be opened
until another missive is sent



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