Trusting trees

Image by victormeldrewsyou

Trusting Trees 

Every Friday afternoon
I have reason to drive into Boston and back.

Over many weeks, I've watched the trees along my way,
their green leaves turning,
painting the road's shoulders with a last gasp of color and beauty,
then taking a bow in a coppery brown farewell...

One night since last Friday
-I'm sure it was under the cover of darkness-
the trees quietly conspired and, all together,
shook off their faded frocks.

Now they stand bare
against the chill of November's afternoon skies.
They stand still without a hint of a shiver,
their branched arms stretching strong,
braced for the weight of snow and ice,
their December sparkle, their winter's armor...

Would that I were bold enough
to stand so naked before my God,
arms stretching strong
to reach the warmth of winter's love...

And I prayed, as I drove, for a tree's trust
that spring will come again and melt away the frost
to dew and life and leaves, green again...


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