@spiritnword

Reading the Seasons Unlike trees we de-leave in the summer. We shed our bark and let the sun in. Trees bundle up, make themselves buxom bonnie and full. They let the squirrels in. Winter comes and on goes our bark, thick as bushes become our coats, hats, gloves. Our faces burrowed into borrowed wool. Trees strip down naked, bare, bold. Bare sentinels drinking in the cold. God of the trees, God of the leaves God of growth rings and ancient things teach me whatever wisdom they are hiding.

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