The Tree in Winter

Lacy and austere at once–beautiful barren trees–winter’s mystique.

Frost-covered branches, in winterland magic, play music when jiggled.

There is promise in the tree, stripped of fruitfulness in winter’s glory.

Winter’s splendor is best revealed in tree unrobed stark against the gray.

Let the barren branch take root in bleak mystery–deep hides the new leaf.

The tree takes no pride in its leaves in the winter, only in its roots.

Let winter come in winter, the bleakness of death best born once, not twice.

Austerity has a singular beauty, set apart and divine.

©️Bonnie Saul Wilks

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