Beneath The Boughs of Winter's Trees

Beneath The boughs of winter's trees
the air is cold, sunlight ill at ease
I sink to ground on aging knees
to ponder under shelter

White velvet branches overhead
protect the soft spot of my head
strong fingers gently reaching out
In quest of natures answer

My Mother passed so long ago
I see her face there in the snow
It saddens me she might not know
the man I came to be

Under the white I feel a root
So strong and solid 'neath my boot
this foundation holds these boughs
As a Mother holds her child

The silence loud, the breeze on mute
I smell cold air and taste snow's fruit
a star peeks through my wooden roof
and winks at me in answer

Beneath the boughs of winter's trees
we all remember simpler things
like rides and games and halloween
and happily ever after