The Greatest Teacher

The Greatest Teacher

by denny bastian 2012

The field of golden wheat

sways like gentle waves on the ocean

in the late summer winds.

The pebbles on the beach

roll up with each successive wave

only to skitter back to where they started,

each time a tiny chip removed

until they become as smooth

as a baby’s bottom.

Seagulls float overhead

like the kites of little children.

and the moss growing on the north

side of the old oak tree

has turned a paler shade of green.

A faint smell of winter is in the air.

Out of the wind between two large boulders,

I lie with the sun warm on my face.

I appreciate this place right now,

and the marvellous gift of being alive;

I ponder my existence, my place.

Should I die this very minute,

the wheat will continue its growth,

the wind will still gust like the breath

of the ever spinning universe,

ocean waves will roll in from the deep

pushing pebbles before it

as if I had never been here at all.

In this way, the greatest teacher.