The Seasons Of The Tree
The tree stands,
Its branches like black lace against the blue winter sky.
A sparrow hops from branch to branch, catching the sun.
I look again.
A rain falls softly now, but budding green leaves
Do not cover the nest-building robin.
And now it's July,
With summer sunlight falling in subdued splashes
Upon a woodpecker lazily pecking.
With autumn,
The tree has clothed itself in its most glorious raiment of red and gold.
I catch the flashing blue of a mountain jay.
Yet always there is magic
And the Creator seems close
When I look upon this living testimony
Of his care for us.
The Writings of Zelda Lorraine Brown Kline
Edited by Owen A. Kline and Michael E. Kline. Assistant Photo Editor David O. Kline
Copyright @1999 The Kline Family Organization, Inc.
First published in the United States of America by The Kline Family Organization, Inc. 4381 West 5375 South Kearns, Utah 84118
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