Why must the trees have to shed all their leaves?
This always puzzled me.
Their branches left bare in the cold winter air,
undressed for all to see.
I pitied their plight through the long winter nights
and fondly thought of when,
their summer attire could a poet inspire,
to put to work his pen.
But when a great storm with thick ice had adorned,
the woodland limbs so dense,
and opened my eyes to God’s splendid design,
it all made perfect sense.
The sun’s rainbow light as it shone through that ice -
a million tiny prisms -
the leaves would not share if they had remained there.
Such beauty they’d have hidden.
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Copyright © 2013 Mark E. North. All Rights Reserved.