Are

The naked slumbering trees

have simple dreams

silent but fully sentient understanding

far beyond our stupid complexities

and supercilious entertainments.

Blanketed by a vast sea of twinkling flakes

under a mountain they meditate

beneath a capitulated blizzard they sigh

reaching far below the frozen earth in search of reassurance

stretching higher than winters past toward birdless telephone wires

as a pink dusk settles in the distance

their arms ache for gentle guests.

They meditate perfectly

They have already flowered

Only the world doesn’t know it yet

They are Zen

They are not Zen

Zen is a man thought about no thought.

The naked slumbering trees

have simple dreams

silent but fully sentient understanding

far beyond our efforts.