The Evergreen
I'm not particularly flashy.
But I am constant. Sort of like a familiar view.
That shape you see on the horizon.
You're not really conscious of my ‘Being’,
But you'd notice if I'd gone.
Too late.
And the ones who stand around me?
They come and they go.
Changing with the seasons.
They hide away when the Winter comes.
Leaving me.
Alone.
And when they feel the Vernal Warmth return.
Those Vainglorious Ones
Turn their faces to the Sun.
Bursting forth to shout their Vibrant Displays,
Their Seasons Latest Fashion,
Redolent,
Scented-Summers-Show.
And I Stand-Tall, Dull.
Hidden behind their Garlands.
And watch it all. The Coming and the Going.
They nod from Time-to-Time.
To me.
Turning, Bending with the Wind-of-change.
Frightened by its strength,
By the weight of their conceit.
Of how the wind may break their backs.
Whereas me?
I’m Standing here,
Constant.
On your horizon.
Fearing nothing,
Except the coming,
Of the Woodsman's Axe.
Image. ‘The Evergreen’. Original Artwork by Megan Johnstone.
