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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460267" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Monk and the Tree</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">At dawn each day, as<br>the monk awoke upon the polished floor, and<br>rolled his bedding mat, the Way –<br>the way things are, the way they follow –<br>walked its way beside him. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Later, he would take his brush, <br>the ink-block, paper, and the water-pot<br>he filled each day with water from the river, <br>and find a place, among the woods, <br>or by the river bank; where the Way<br>would teach him old things, seen as if now new.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Most often, he would sit near an ancient tree<br>which had so much to teach him; <br>its trunk and branches gnarled and twisted<br>with the wisdom of the Way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The tree was, as great trees are, the most<br>adventurous of artists: every Spring, <br>it would put forth new twigs, <br>as awkward as a newborn deer on<br>stick-like legs, trying to stand and walk; <br>the tree would let the Way make it<br>as awkward, unsymmetrical, <br>as inartistic as could be…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">then slowly through the year, the tree, the Way<br>would make of this, a new and daring beauty; </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and the monk would learn of it, <br>take up the brush, moisten the ink-block, <br>and – brush gently swishing black on white –<br>draw his daily lesson through the year…</div><div style="margin:10px 0">and because he was so loved and famed, <br>connoisseurs of that most ancient art<br>would beg his paintings; find their breath<br>held, at his daring; their eyes would learn the Way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the monk, now old, joined the Immortals, <br>his many students gathered near that ancient tree.<br>They said, the tree did not seem sad at all; <br>threw out new leaves, seemed to rejoice; <br>as teachers do, whenever pupils shine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Michael+Shepherd">Michael Shepherd</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=460267" data-title="The Monk and the Tree de Michael Shepherd" data-description="At dawn each day, as
the monk awoke upon the polished floor, and
rolled his bedding mat, the Way –
the way things are, the way they follow –
walked its way beside him. 

Later, he would take his brush, 
the ink-block, paper, and the water-pot
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