Fair Is Fair
Bamboo trees live for a hundred years, flower, then die.
Roots intertwined, every tree stabilizing every tree.
Strong winds blow.
The bamboo grove bows deeply.
The winds die down.
The trees stand up.
Every bone in our body is curved. Every one.
If our bones were straight, and our joints were square,
We couldn’t bow. We couldn’t bend.
Side by side, a group of archers practice archery.
They draw their tall bows.
Their bows bend.
The top and the bottom of their bows
Curve slightly toward the center.
The further the archers pull their string back,
The rounder their bows become.
The vertical yields to the horizontal.
In the hands of leaders
Who are grounded, strong, and balanced,
The rich, at the top will bend,
And the poor, at the bottom will rise,
Widening the middle class.
Who are groundless, spineless, and shaky,
The rich will get richer,
And the poor will get poorer.
Our children, deprived of flying forward into an open future.