Pursuing Truth, Cultivating Virtue, Creating Beauty

Winter trees together—alone—
Reaching to heaven with bare-bone
Hands. Colorful choirs, festive cries,
Hushed to gray prayers by gray skies.

Winter trees between life and death,
The winter breeze the only breath
That stirs a rattling rasp—a gasp—
How long, O Sun, ‘til warmth we grasp?

Winter trees under icy wait,
Stripped of each sprig of life but faith.
Creation groans, believes and grieves.
And we—yes, we—are winter trees.