Right Before My Eyes
Outside my window there is a tree that stands alone.
In the distance there are towering pines but no tree
is near to this one. It stands wild and untended
with thin branches intertwined in a jumbled mesh
of aged and fragile limbs. It is a favorite gathering place
for sparrows. Great groups swarm to its many cross-stitched branches.
Their chattering excitement like a noisy children’s playground
with gossiping voices that travel through the panes of my front window.
They love this tree. They tell the world through song.
Without complaint the tree stands patient. For thirty-seven seasons
I have given it little notice showing even less care for its welfare.
This January has been mild. Yesterday we had a brief shower.
The bare branches of the old tree were dripping with rain.
Its boughs drooped with the weight of heavy drops.
Later, the warm sun came from the south and shone through
each droplet hanging, reflecting sunlight to my eyes.
Each raindrop became a tiny light upon the tree
covering it with thousands of faux Christmas lights.
They shone more brilliant than the nighttime stars in heaven.
And then a miracle happened. A small breeze arose, as if on cue.
Not enough to shake the droplets loose, but just enough
to make them shimmer. The sunlight was then reflected
with a swaying motion, light to shadow, to and fro.
It was breathtaking! Thousands of naturally twinkling lights
on an ordinary, turned extraordinary, tree.
A thought arose within my mind:
“All things in life must have their moment”
I felt humbled and amazed to share this moment with this tree,
Who was I to share a gift so rare. Eyes tearing up, I stood
staring in awe at the most beautiful tree in the world,
right outside my window, where it had always been.
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