The forest floor is littered
With leaves of brown.
The nests above, long abandoned.
The wind sounds hollow, haunting,
And pushes past me
Looking to stir up trouble.
Instead, the trees greet it playfully
Slender, twisted trunks
Swaying gently back and forth.
Graceful boughs grasp at the sky
Others lean backward as if
Being dipped in a graceful tango.
There is something about a naked tree swaying in the wind that always seems to beckon me to a surrender like I have never surrendered before. Perhaps it is that it is solidly planted, unable to, not wanting to move from where it's maker has pruposely placed it. It says to me..."Watch us and do aswe do. Raise you arms and trust. Don't be so concerned with the green cloaked evergreens who never lose their needles or boughs inwinter. They'll never know what it means to feel the freedom of nakedness and the rest it brings. They'll never feel the breath of the maker clothing them as we, who are bare and vulnerable do. Every spring we are ...born...again. We feel the rush of new life course through our limbs and then...by design...we bloom...oh we bloom. Fresh and green drinking in the sunlight and the dew anxious to provide shade and sing with wind taht blown through our branches and across our leaves. We are naked for a time but all the while our branches are raised in praise. See this...do this. Just as we are changed every spring...so will you be." Renata
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, yes Renata - exactly! I'm am learning to see the beauty in what others see as barren. Those trees just seem to have so much joy!
DeleteLove the change on the page, first of all.
ReplyDeleteThis is such lovely prose, Toni. And, of course, I certainly recognize the scenery!
In God's creation, beauty can even be found in the cold, stark and grey of the wilderness.
Pam
Love this...just saw it also checking out Blog Nation! Thanks Toni!
ReplyDelete