Blue skies peek through bare-limbed trees,
A gentle breeze furls the tall tree in dance.
The veins of tree limbs stretch heavenward
A celebration of Praise.
A nod of branch comes my way by greeting of
This new day.
Oh! To be like the tree...unafraid
Of their nakedness.
Arms stretch in frozen dance of joy,
Lines etch the years upon its face.
Yet beauty in age is present in time worn trunk.
Constantly limbs outstretched in prayer and praise.
Witness of seasons, each full of beauty.
Patience in waiting for what comes next.
Oh! To be like the tree,
Fearless and strong enough to bend.
Teresa Gale
2/22/16
