Oh the purity that hushes the sharp corners
and gracefully bends irregularity;
birthing the transformation of
the ugliest of character.

I see the usual grumbling oak across the way
and the arthritic brown walnut tree,
their arms are now fallen at their sides,
heavy heads bowed low in somber
white reverence to the sky.


1 comment:

Joshua Keel said...

Beautiful poem and Merry Christmas! I hope to have some new music to show in a few weeks. I'm going to try to spend some time tomorrow setting up my recording studio in the attic and recording.