The Winter Tree

The winter tree, wiry, thin, leafless, and dry,
Yet it frames the full moon glowing high in the sky.

Through every season it holds its ground,
Among evergreens, it makes no sound.
It waits for the sprout, the bloom, the fruit,
Patient and steadfast, deep in its root.

Bare but unbroken, it stands in the cold,
Knowing each season must slowly unfold.
Its roots will endure as the earth turns round,
As long as the sun and the stars are found.

There is no hurry, no reason for fear,
The promise of spring is already near.
Soon sunlight will filter through bright new green,
And joy will return with chirpy cheer.