On Skeletons and Trees and Branches Reaching Out
On branches reaching from the tree's squelette,
her winding, weathered arms grasping to say,
see, the wind blows and stills in season's way
and sunlight's always followed by sunset.
Acceptance feeling better than regret.
Your naked bones awaken, need convey;
face your fears, let the sky bring what she may;
she spins the wheel of solitude roulette.
Your own light lights the dark night of your mind,
searches for love responses to the hate;
listens, competing chorus, raising psalms,
voices in silence singing to the blind,
the roaring world and headlines punctuate
a breath of air and welcome nature's songs.
© Christine Salkin Davis