River Birch Blues

Like a shawl
a vast gray sky
wraps around
the river birch
as she stands clad
in winter’s chilling breath.

Freezing rain
trickles down steadily
on her bare branches,
creating transparent teardrops
looking like chantilly lace
etched on her spindly form.

Cold winds,
shrill sounds
of winter’s whispers,
briskly blow
upsetting the
frozen tears.

Shuddering,
she wearily stretches
toward an endless gray sky.
Her weakened limbs sway
like a child reaching for more cover,
wishing for more warmth.

In darkness now,
she cries in seasonal sorrow.
As the blanket cannot be reached,
she bows to remember
warm winds,
blue skies,
birds’ lullabies—
dreams of better days.

Images
of spring’s secrets,
her first bursts
of springtime green,
ease her troubled mind.

8 comments

  1. Jan,

    Your tale of the wintering birch lulls us to a gentle spring.
    Lovely in every sense and heartwarming on this frigid day.

    I love the imagery that you’ve woven into this tapestry of hope.

    Sarah

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Jan

    The thaw might be a long way off, but at least it’s coming. Meanwhile, the scenes you’ve drawn are very evocative.

    Here in the southern hemisphere, I don’t feel the US chill. But at least you’ve help me imagine my way nearer to it.

    Nicely done.

    Mark.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Hello, Mark,
    We are blessed with all kinds of weather in all kinds of places where we live. Trees, like the river birch at my porch corner, demonstrate a key to survival: try to withstand guaranteed changing elements of the seasonal weather. Thanks for reading & commenting here. Take care.
    Jan

    Like

  4. Hi Jan

    Such an exquisite portrait of the tree and perhaps that of the human spirit in Winter. I love the title and how you personify this beautiful aspect of nature. A tree has its own soul and sense of awareness to seasons and weather and ways of nature. Some scientists and writers believe trees communicate with each other through special gestures and language. I like to think that is true and also that a tree is sensitive to the things happening around her. You poem , for me, brings these ideas alive and for that, I am haunted by it and think it is written with grace and empathy.

    Especially loved the haunting pathos in these lines –

    Shuddering,
    she wearily stretches
    toward an endless gray sky.
    Her weakened limbs sway
    like a child reaching for more cover,
    wishing for more warmth.

    In darkness now,
    she cries in seasonal sorrow.
    As the blanket cannot be reached,
    she bows to remember
    warm winds,
    blue skies,
    birds’ lullabies—
    dreams of better days.

    And so do we!

    Thank you,
    Wendy

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hello, Wendy,
      It’s nice to see you today. You’ve been in my thoughts & prayers these past few weeks. I hope your healing success continues as time passes. Thank you for appreciating this poem. How I love our river birch tree nestled at our front porch corner. Take care.
      Jan

      Like

  5. Hi Jan

    Your kindness and prayers are very deeply appreciated! Am improving and coming back to normal step by step, literally. Walking, flexing knee in regular easing exercises but still have a few more weeks in leg brace and more x-rays on Jan 16th.

    And yes, I understand how you love the birch tree, I love birch myself and also am very close, fond of, the trees in my back yard. Especially a burgeoning pine and a field of Joshua trees that extends beyond my garden wall.

    Again, thank you,
    Wendy

    Like

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s