The Tree
by Dionysos Maskaleris
{Many years ago I hung this poem taped on a coat hanger

hanging from a low overhanging branch of a tree

growing between the street and the sidewalk

in the front of my house for passersby's to read}
*
By the street

in front of my house
there is a tree that still of the winter thought it had died
For all the other trees had opened themselves
The tree had clung to it's dead leaves till April
when suddenly one day it released them
to make a place for the new leaves to grow
That the tree has it's life is all there is
All I have now is that I noticed this tree
For there is still a tree of the winter
that waits to live
When will it's dead leaves fall?
When will this tree with branching hands wanting to open
touch and be touched again?
When the winter forgives the tree
and the tree forgives the winter
when they weep enough for the roots to know
that the sustenance can also be found in the Light
with the Light that flows towards us and inside us

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{All Dionysos Maskaleris writings copyright or copyright pending}

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