And silently, December has arrived.
Another year will soon become a shadow
As memories are stretched out on life’s path to dry.
“Avenge my shadows!” the tree of life cried.
Anguished by the tree’s bellow, the sun replied,
“Alert yourself to my rising and setting,
As I represent time.
At the point of my wake and slumber,
Aren’t your shadows at their longest and greatest number?
Already I told you live not by your shadow,
As they grow and wither,
And look at the magnificent tree,
Already tall, beautiful, and stronger.”