What do you see?
When you see a tree sheds its leaves?
Do you see it weep silently shedding tears?
Do you think it knows that there will be
A new spring yet to come?
There will be a new dress for it to wear?
Or, in despair, it stays paralyzed by fear
Naked and sad beyond repair?
Can you think of life
When death is so fresh anew?
Is giving birth in the coming spring
A possibility easy to fathom
When life is lost and lost and lost again?
With every whim of fleeting wind
In the season of death where ever you go,
Life is clinging to its roots,
Then blown away every time a wind detonates;
Leaving behind a weeping figure
Extending forward its boughs pleading
With the mysterious force for it to spare
Taking away the very life that it has
That it adores and cherish as its own
Possession and beauty.
Till the end, so vibrant and multi-hued,
Pleading and pleading forever more,
But to no avail.
The ruthless force, the heartless wind
Still goes on with its destruction
Scattering corpses all around
And, then, the tree
Clinging to a will unknown,
Digging it up from deep within its roots,
Holding up its figure waiting,
Proudly waiting for a sweet promise
of life again, for giving again, forgiving gracefully,
Dreaming for the awaiting warmth, kindling
A spirit of hope beyond the death shroud of winter.