A silhouette against the sky,
Standing on the hill out there,
Outlined in contrast.
A thick strong trunk,
Fracturing into many limbs,
Ending in vulnerable, fragile branch tips against
A sky starting to glow rosy pink,
In the rising sunlight of a cold winter day.
Hearing fractured limb rubbing against,
A gnarled knob on the truck.
Rubbed raw by the gentle breeze of much time,
First broken by the wind of a crashing storm.
Being made stronger where it was weak.
Standing, from there it was a vision of raw perfection,
From here the visible imperfect.
In passing – striking and bold
In observing – strong and beautiful.
A promise of more.
On a warm summer’s day,
Laying in comfort against the shaded trunk.
The strength behind not considered.
Forgotten the image of the stark, bold silhouette,
Hidden are the fragile branches
In striking contrast against the cool winter sky.
A deep contented sigh,
The rustling leaves bringing
Contentment which passes over.
This is joy and a peace that fills.
This tree, was then and is now.
This is the gift that can come from faith.
It did not require choice,
It stands reaching to receive,
The gifts provided and there it grows.
Not of it’s plan or of it’s time.
At times raw and vulnerable,
Bare and easily visible.
Beauty there, but easily missed.
Dismissed as ugly or a shadow of it’s glory.
Taken for granted and forgotten in fullness.
Hard to understand that it doesn’t require,
Only that we are open to receive.