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The Tree

Staring out the window,
I notice a tree.
I’ve seen this tree before,
Day and night
And night and day,
Seeing it’s branches sway in the winds,
But never really seeing this tree.

It stands so barren,
Like a thick-spined skeleton
Will a million arms,
And dark bark laden with history,
Mystery winding around ever limb.
Brilliant colors fallen from its peek,
Seeking refuge on the ground,
Only to be ruined by rain,
Stained and soon raked away.

I feel as though my elbows are glued
To this window sill, my portal
To an outside world
Just to watch the snow
Fall, melt and repeat an age old cycle.
I’m smiling at my knowledge
Of a tiny little secret.

Sure enough, dear Lord,
The snow was worth the cold
As we’ve been told
The ground help the snow
And gave it to the tree,
And from here I can see
Brand new buds growing
Showing signs of blowing up
Showing us pastels
Telling of us new smells
But only for a little while

Before a robin can sing
Or a breath do I dear
The tree is full again
Green as an emerald
With a new head of hair
And I smile, just for a while
Watching the cycle go on
Lost in it’s beauty
Glad I’m able to see
The beauty of nature



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