It rests upon a gentle crest,
with stately elms embracing its breast.
Rising high above they spread their wings,
beholding in the dwelling the loved souls that sing.
At dawn they rise for the coming day’s toil,
turning the earth and cultivating the soil.
The bountiful orchards set ablaze,
attracts them there for a pause on the warm spring day.
Their flowers rise in glory, what a beautiful sight,
releasing their essence, the great breath of light.
The sun rests on the horizon in the west,
reminding them of the hard days coming rest.
The robins sing their goodnight song,
until once again the emergence of dawn.
Their souls in slumber released in flight,
This grand old house holds them dear to the night.
Kuan Gung
Dedicated to my departed grandparents who lived, loved and cared for the earth in this old house. The two most influential souls in my life...I miss them dearly...
