simple truths

WINTER TREES Everyone loves the sight of Spring. Fresh, new. Full of hope and promise. The smell of ozone lingers in the air after rain And the vibrant colors of life emerging grab you. We bask in the warm rays of the summer sun And find useful, the respite of the canopy over head. Soothing shade cooling to your skin, like aloe And the verdant leaves brighten your gaze. And no one can deny the beauty of Autumn. As if all the work of Spring and Summer, were just to take you here. To this moment. A spectacular show of colorful acheivment. Who will say the Winter trees are lovely? Shed now of all their beauty and splendor. No longer of use to cover over you, nor to look at. Barren. Dormant. But, there is magic in Winter trees  They have faced every season. Their strength is evident. In every curve and the many branched lines reaching up. Solid and sturdy. The rings of the tree bestowed by the Winter. Where their status has been hard-earned by all the seasons before. The Winter trees a...

Raging mad and helpless, small outside, but inside looking through eyes as big as they ever will be. Cheeks flush with embarrassment. Saturated in disparagement. A little boy sits silent, in use of astonishing self-control most grown-ups could never employ. Knowing the hand that beats is also the hand that feeds He swallows a sturdy pride, to save it for later in life. For now he'll just hide. Still steaming and boiling A nuclear explosion, going off deep inside. It baffled those who watched on, how this tiny child carried on constructing the most amazing inner architectural feat. A wall so high and so deep, even now  that those two little feet are full-sized, he can't seem to scale it, the man inside now walking on in heavy steps paved with pride.