784 | THE FICUS TREE
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The ficus tree
The ficus tree
is a few meters in front of my desk.
I can see it whenever I look up,
and it seems still.
Each leaf is like a mini violin.
So many hidden melodies hanging there,
and only in my sleep,
they play together.
When I wake up in the morning,
the ground is covered with all of the notes,
and a new verse appears on the branches.
They rehearse and perform repeatedly,
enjoying it and never getting tired.
Yet am I frittering away my time?
Or just like them, delightful changes
always happen, but only inside.
The outside seems still.
Yanlan Yu, China-Canada