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A Humble Posture

Humbly, they stand,

unresisting in the forest,

while winter winds howl

an unrelenting chorus.

As rime settles in,

dormant on the pine,

layering in wait,

they stand still in time.

Bellowing a silent song

loudly in the air,

their sorrow holds a joy

in the midst of suffering there.

Quietly they rest,

as winter weighs with force,

braving a constant posture

for spring's birthing course.

Boldly they remain,

a simple, humble tree,

and reveal a glorious beauty

quite mysteriously.


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