Aspens ~ Sharmagne Leland-St. John
How like an aspen tree out in the cold,
abruptly staunch against a bitter wind,
with independent spirit–truth be told,
it’s waiting for the season to rescind
its grip, its threats–send all the clouds away
and banish snow that clings to fragile limbs.
But let the crusted icelettes have their day,
the winter shields, defensive arctic whims.
Encircling, their whispers chant a song
that penetrates within, right to the roots,
then spreads, then clones itself upright–how strong
a twin with healing bark and reaching shoots.
Now see how the horizon cedes to sun
and beckons warmth when winter’s work is done.