Like trees in winter.
They feel barren,
Stripped of
Their splendour,
Barely alive.
In a bleak world.
Although they still
Sway with the wind.
Occasionally another,
Weak sun casts
Its light in
Their direction,
But cannot bring them
Back to life.
It is not time yet.
One day a constant,
Tender sun will shine
In their universe,
And they will
Blossom and
Grow again,
Wearing their loveliness
On the outside
For all to see.
I have faith.
Spring will find them.
Warmth and colour
Will be restored.
Even in the gloom
I can still see
The beauty within.
I know they are
Still alive.
Until their time comes
I care for them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like your lovely winterscape.Very inspiring, Susan. Warm regards, Sandra