Mystique Poem by Reynaldo Casison

The Maple trees
Are still dancing
From season to season

Even in stillness
Even in rhythms

Through the rhythmic
sails of tender winds

Even in the northern lights
Even in everlasting skies
Kissed by waterlillies

The maple trees
Are still dancing
In their seasonal attire
In their seasonal dresses
Translucent, green embers
Stark, golden hues

With the blossoms of spring
The starkness of winter
The gold of autumn
The clovers of summer

Honey in its leaves
From her lean mystique
Even tears can be honey

Reynaldo Casison