Gray mountain
patchy sun;
broken tree
limbs
left undone.
Heavy winter sky;
hence today
I hear my sigh
I'm wishing...
that I had
strength (enough)
to patch to bend
to prop to lift
to rework
mountain trees;
some bent down
to their knees.
Harsh winter wind
ripping ice
hard pressed I am
(today) to find the nice
in you. I believe
I'd blacken
your eye;
for you've left
Fair~Mountain
Once~so~Green
alone
to stand
assaulted.
But the birds
still call with
great cheer and
strength of their
small (but) piercing
song to the
mountains:
"Make haste,
awaken the spring!"
Their chirping
song with echoes ring
of promise.
Lush green velvet
grass and foliage
of every fair green color;
shoot forth
soothe grow and cover,
the woods their
naked wounds
~~then summer.
We had a severe storm yesterday, too. And watching branches flying through the air I was reminded that wind is probably a pretty effective pruner and dead wood falls to the ground to become fodder for future growth. Or, in Charlie's case, she thinks the world is raining sticks for her to play with - lol!
ReplyDeleteI can't wait until the leaves appear - won't it be something?