Winter Tree

Looking at Tree in Winter,
shorn and stark
who could imagine Spring?

The unremitting reality
of withered branches
send me a message

What is here
so solidly now
will surely change

I won’t always see
the miracle of new life
being carefully crafted

But I can trust
in nature’s journey;
birth, life, death

What is born, lives a while
and inevitably dies
What dies, imagines the new

into existence
but does so unseen
It knows what it’s doing;

not even the Sun is allowed
to disturb it’s darkly quiet passion
The dying have gifts to make....

Spring always returns
with its generous bounty
and Tree begins a new life....