Winter branches hover
silent and still,
achingly bare...
Are they not weary?
Are they not cold?
Are they not waiting
to be clothed anew in green?
Even so, perhaps they are in some way
content.
To whisper the truth
that we are ALL waiting...
and that it is better to be bare for a time
than to be false.
3 comments:
wow. thank you, liz.
liz this is beautiful and so full of truth. thank you
this reminds me of Emily Dickinson - high praise, in my mind. i love her work. this is beautiful.
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