Thoughts in Midwinter
Now's the time of year when I begin
to wonder about the trees. When they so much
as register that shorter days are past,
and daylight starts to lengthen after solstice,
the slightest stretch of January sun
can send them madly blossoming.
It's one of nature's counterfeits. No armistice
can change that rain will fall. The trees will last
the storm, no doubt; but what of grace in such
a tempest? Where's the plan or grand design then?
It's the nature of the tree to love the sun.
It's the nature of the sun not to care.
It rains. And blossoms end up on the ground.