The Trees

Whipping wind washes in with the shore

Dances around my stout frame

And back again

From all angles I am attacked

While the view before me changes from serene

To terrifying and back again

Rain rages and ebbs, pushes the lake up higher

And higher

And higher

I am frozen

In fear of the water carrying me away

Afraid it may not

The black, dead trees stand stalwart

Immoveable against the powerful

They are strong

Fearless

I am not

My desires cry in the wind

Call to me—remind me that I fall short

Water snatches my feet

Chills my core

Snaps me back to life

A sigh and a nod of thanks

I walk from the bridge to honor

The water, the wind, the trees