A tree tends to be moved.
When you water it
It will respond with a full tree of bird chirping
And a string of ripples on its mind.
Upon its recent growth ring,
A new name will be stamped,
And a new face will be remembered.
Just as the first bowl of well water I received,
Along with it I remember the love that is deeper
Just as my father, a carpenter, who always
Takes good care of every piece of wood.
In fact, even wood tends to be moved.
They prefer to be placed at the right spot
Rather than overly cut out.
My father has never done that.
He’s never stepped on a piece of wood.
He is moved by what wood brought to him
---the life---wood is everything to him.
My mother is more like the shavings.
But shavings are most easily moved.
She is so fragrant, tender and exhausted.
It seems that her flowers will burn thoroughly
Before you’ve noticed.
