A beautiful surprise is
The tree thought dead,
When a heavy spring rain
Brought the unexpected bud.

Falling asleep in bed,
I felt nothing more to gain
Than the rhythmic tap and thud
From sleep-inducing droplets.

Proved wrong when morning came,
Convinced the tree a dud,
I saw the springtime promise
Of green at the branch’s end.

And it was there I stood
In view of death’s antithesis,
A tree indeed to mend
But alive just the same.

But these buds grow a brighter green
Because the thought they’d never be seen.

 

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