Pine cones give up everything they have,.. occasionally, leaving behind a tree
Which leads to more cones and more trees, ..coming,..going, then growing again....
I wake up in this fine old house, where at times, I can almost believe again
that morning sun is still the same, as it filters through the lodge pole pines
The sound of laughter will rise again, just as chatter of the squirrels has not dimmed
O' grief, .......... you've brought disruption on us all!
Fire brings disaster, and in its wake, are burnt-out hulls
of lupine and lodge pole pine cones that will come alive.
They seed the wilderness again.
The pine cone seems to disappear, but is eternal.
For now, it rains devastation and disruption, with times to climb...with times to fall...
and eventually, a time to rise again.
Now comes cold reflection, but then, ... here comes sunlight
Sun, sun, sun, and I say.....it's all right
For the Contest: Grief.......sponsored by Black Eyed Susan