The temple junipers have stood for many years and countless travellers have rested in their shade. Noiv they are ageing. Their ponderous boughs begin to droop and break.
Nearby, a mighty oak lies fallen in the woods: a century of growth uprooted in a sudden moment, like a twig.
Beyond the trees rise the tall bamboos. Like flying cranes, they stand at rest. One slender' leg sustains them imperturbably between the grasses and the open sky.
In early spring the sun streams through their thin green leaves. Young shoots stretch up toivard the brightness overhead. Tloeir parents wave in sunlight far aboi <e.
The sound of wind comes from the woods. As if they were a thousand swaying hands, the leaves on all the shafts turn slowly in the air.
Beneath its sloping shoots, the bamboo's stem is gently curved. It takes the force of all the elements - enduring, rooted, calm. Unlike the trees that break and fall, its stem is just a hollow, nothing more. Its strength is in its emptiness.
Was this article helpful?