Continuance

The old oak did not tell
the sapling
how to grow.

It simply left behind
a little shade, a little soil,
and the memory
of having stood.

From between the rocks,
a tender green emerged—
not to replace what had been,
but to continue what could never end.

An old man stopped.
Dew vibrated on a leaf.
Something quivered in his eyes.

In that fleeting moment
of eternity,
neither was young nor old.

The sapling discovering Life,
Grandpa rediscovering her.
And Life—playful, as she is—
recognizes herself in both.

Image courtesy: rajGuru Notes