In the tree



The dark heart of things

behind the familiar and loved

world of nature.

Beyond the twig, the branch,

the beloved companion, the tree,

there lies dark mystery.

Look there and feel the slip

into uncertainty, fragility

When, from time to time, we let

truth, in his dark cloak,come close

there can be only one act of courage.

No prayers, no tears or begging

for a reprive from what, in the way of nature

must come.

Still this remains – to hang on a fragile thread,

red, like heart’s blood, a round ball of light.

Firery red, precious gold, hang it.

Now and then, in these dark winter days and nights,

take joy from it, courage, hope.

A simple joy, a light defiance in the face

of winter.  A birh, a light in the heart of it.



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