The holiness of slow

The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass
Bewildered by the wind so strong and cold
Like prisoners suffering from a cruel lash

The cat walks by ,the  little hedgehogs pass
So in my winter coat I could be bold
The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass

If only winter travelled very fast
But time is needed for the seeds  to grow
As humble as a  snail on its own path

We humans  too need silence without rush
We must earn the holiness of slow
While thinner  trees  still wave  like fragile grass

In the soil, the worms  pursue their tasks
Eternities of beetles move below
Humble as the  snails on  their own path

Why we’re here  this day we cannot know
Our souls soak in the  silent world below
The thinner branches wave  like fragile grass
We’re not gods. we suffer  from the lash