The white ground covering
stretches into an opaque white sky
like an empty page of paper
readied for a new story.
The dark trees all reach upward
into blank nothingness,
branching then diverging into a net
of delicate fingers begging
something of the diffused sunlight.
They seem like so many hungry souls
grasping predictably
at the indistinct graces
of their annual Easter ablution.
A new season of faith?
Over time, the trees will still be branching
and reaching; but come spring
their faith will be
vividly
crowned in green.
first published in Creative With Words
© 2002 Bonnie Manion