The wind whispers through the leaves,
Through the leaves of 100 year old olive trees.
The black bits litter the ground,
The gnarled trunks don’t make a sound.
You walk through this beautiful place,
Don’t eat the olives you wont like the taste.
The black and dried beauties crunch under your boots,
They stretch their tendrils, sagacious roots.
So much time has these trees seen,
They’ve seen the word dirty-and watched it run clean.
They don’t grow too tall, but offer some shade,
We sat under this myriad for over three days.
The colors so bold but cold in their truth,
To want anything more, would be simply uncouth.
You lie down to rest, the pits on your back,
Expressing your soul, these trees have a knack.
The small family is happy, feel blessed for what they keep,
Life is not always so smooth, sometimes it’s steep.
But keep keepin’ on just doing their olives,
These trees are so old they’re really rock-solid.
And once again we learn a lesson from the wild,
You just need to slow down and live like a child.
I think the whole world could take a page from the Book of Chaffin,
Just shed your skin, start playin’ and laughin’
And when you see those trees,
Give yourself a pinch and a squeeze.
Cause I’ll promise you this,
You will give that sweet dirt a kiss.
You will feel as though you’ve ascended
Before your life has even ended.
By: Alex Depavloff