Though an ordinary tree,
She ponders her peace and privilege.
In spring, her buds and leaflets
Receive life-giving sun, wind and rain,
While asserting gratitude, hope, and joy.

In summer, she and her young leaves
Fulfill their cooperative, harmonious destiny.
They hear whispers of a cooler breeze,
And accept the inevitability
Of approaching change.

In autumn she admires
Leaves of blazing crimson,
Honors their perfect, completed lives,
Praises their attainment of purpose,
Softly wishes them well. . . 
and gently releases them.

In winter, bare limbs chilled,
She slumbers through piercing, icy winds
And dark days, dreaming of an approaching spring.

At last, the caress of a warm breeze
Thaws the deepest reaches of her soul.
She anticipates a new beginning of the timeless cycle,
And raises her branches to welcome the sun.

-Will Walsh ©2015