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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