Stripped bare,
Back to bark,
Rigid vulnerability,
Extremities beseeching
Darkened sky,
Heavy with promise of
Elemental hardship.
Life dips to source,
Buries beneath
Compacted soil,
Seeking renewal,
Replenishing,
Awaiting
New life,
New growth.
Pondering
Future
Garlands,
Garments to array,
In lighter days
With higher skies.
Reaching up,
Outstretched limbs,
Praising heavens’
Airy sunshine.
No longer only down
Nor beneath,
Underground,
Spreading roots
Supporting,
Tenuously
Clinging.
Life.
Ever changing.

http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Winter_trees_(3210061866).jpg
This is really good. I could feel life’s up and downs throughout. A right little rollecoaster. Beautiful writing
LikeLike
Thank you, Jerri. Being positive about the onset of winter. I really hate it. Depresses the hell out of me. But I’m still smiling at the moment. Rollercoaster on the up. :)x
LikeLike
There is a stark beauty to a tree naked and black against a stormy sky. Elemental, nature reduced to its survival mode. You’ve captured it so lovingly.
LikeLike
Thank you. They do look gorgeous against a dark sky. Sort of terrible and awesome. A bit creepy too. :)x
LikeLike
Yes, I think that’s how survivors are seen in the world, too. But powerful, enduring.
LikeLike
True. Hardy to survive.x
LikeLike