Saturday, April 21

The Tree

Ice wind lashes uncovered face, trunk
Upstretched arms, fingers
Nearby powerlines moan as he
Rakes over straight, taut lines
Threatening destruction

She is fully exposed
Winter dead lays the field about her
Dull, frozen, flat

Nakedness holds no fear
Her hands stretch always upward
This day trapped in crippling frost
That, tracing the face of heaven

She is fully exposed
Winter sleep has green and growing
Hidden deep within

Nakedness holds no fear
She stands firm, knowing
Root toes reaching deep, deep, deep
Into the soil of many winters

Biting ice turns to soft falling snow
Sky stroking limbs
Spread always wide
Anticipating new clothes
Reprieve from raw vulnerability

She is exposed
Spring allure enchanting
Vibrant, lovely, strong

Nakedness holds no fear
She is alive
She is alive

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