Stolen Glory

Thoughts on trees as winter arrives

My tall wooded soldiers finally bend
From the weight of their burden
Which they have carried since the spring
But now fatigue sets in.
These proud beings waited in silence
Never once complaining
Yet now their precious load
Causes slow and painful straining.

And so, helpless now
They drop bundles against their will
Their sense of duty shaken
Their jewels now clothe the hill.
Their majesty wrenched from them
And there’s nothing they can do
But watch mournfully as their pride is lost
And cling bitterly to a few.

They must feel disappointed
As if they’ve let us down
Desperately trying to hold on to the pieces
Which the cruel wind throws on the ground.
Their treasure was our shad
Their treasure was our show
Now it becomes our burden
And they are left alone.

Without their cozy foliage
These skeletons stand bare
Shivering, sad and lonely
The picture of despair.
So God takes pity on them
And He spends the winter months
Creating mighty splendor for them
To display when Spring comes.