Beyond this snow covered winter wood,
an orchard where once grandma stood,
waits beneath the pewter sky
Soundless, dying, as time creeps by.
Years and ages, passed undefined,
Unbridled to yesterday, fate, resigned.
One question. Just one. Existence implores.
Oh aged trees, what endures?
In biting wind of the frigid clime,
Existence assailed only by time.
The tree, its branches lifted above,
without words, replied, only love.
Existence gazed on, apple tree afar,
rattling remains, gnarled branch and scar.
The answer, tell. Yon tree must be wrong.
Wind shook dry wood, a winter song.
I sang in beauty, one summer day,
my glory, fleeting, did not stay.
How was I once so, I can inform
loving eyes rested upon my form.
Yon tree, mindless, yet wizened much,
would have no life without loving touch,
of a woman death took long years ago,
who loved the orchard in sun, snow.
All things cease; life does pass,
beyond veil, horizon, looking glass.
Grandma, the orchard, mine, yours,
in time move on. But love...endures.
In the dead of winter, the black of night,
When life has fled, even light,
Look to that across which all transcend
Love is the only and all, without end.
Wars, hatred, violence fade ever,
Love breathes life, tomorrow forever.
One answer. Just one. To all afters, befores,
only one answer. Love endures.
Copyright 2012 All rights reserved. Teresa K Cypher