Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Silhouette of tree


Do not see my limbs as bare and dead,
for winter’s cold has taught me well,
to release those things that I do not need,
and pull my love into the heart of me.

The old canopy I shed upon the ground
is not wasted as its leaves turn brown,
it will protect the life that sleeps below,
a loving shelter from the ice and snow.

When the sun shines high and brings warmth again,
I will raise my strength into my arms,
with love’s pure joy I will so deeply breathe,
that I burst forth with buds and form new leaves.

I will ingest the stale and dusty air,
and cleanse it for you, while you dream upstairs,
when it storms I will protect our feathered friends,
within my arms ‘til the skies are blue again.

Promise me that when you see the winter trees,
bent down with frost clinging to their knees,
or standing all alone in the white snow seas,
that you will bow in gratefulness to one of these.