WINTER MEMORIES

Bare trees in winter – limbs stretched to the sky –
Leaves falling, falling covering ground where they lie.
Dark pines and cedars – skyscraper spires –
Multi-green colors midst harvest bonfires.
Sparks float like fireflies – aroma of food –
Bundled, encircled with friends – Life is good!
All sing together – “Thank you, God!” we pray.
Dusk fades to darkness, enfolding this day.
Snow-blanketed, dreaming, waiting for morn –
Like a chrysalis opens, to be changed and reborn!
Bare trees in winter point to God’s sky.
Springtime is Heaven where we never will die.

- by Netagene -

Sitting on my front porch about noon, tootling one of my Native American flutes. Weather about 50 degrees. I could see tops of deciduous trees, bare branches like fingers reaching heavenward, the spires of evergreens, the sunny, near-cloudless sky. The first couplet came unbidden, the rest in about 10 minutes, except for the next-to-last couplet, which whirled like snowflakes, just out of reach until this same evening. What we know here as a cedar, is actually a juniper. It usually grows 40-to-50’ tall but can reach 100’. We have a variety of pines, some reaching well over 100’.