Seasons - In South Africa

A tree - standing alone on a barren piece of land, leaves absent as dead-like branches, with sun-scorched tips desperately reach to the heavens. Its heart seems hollow - almost dead. The ground is hard, for she sky hasn’t cried in a very long time. Its roots reach deep under ground, under open skies and clouds of cotton: it courageously begs for mercy, and when the wind blows violently its branches sway in a dance for rain, and it sings out for a miracle. Only a drop will do. It is holding onto grace, and will soon be dead (completely) and will not be able to tolerate the ghastly winds of this world… Autumn: just a phase, for winter will come and the cold will make the branches quiver with great fear of death. No rain, no love - the torment never ends. Spring - will show its face again: colorful and vibrant, and the clouds will burst excitedly (in summer), and rain will wash the earth clean once more and will feed the soil with showers of love and grace - blessed tears of God, of pride over us for surviving the winter once more. Branches will bow in praise - leaves will dance on the wind in storms of rain. Hope will fill the heart again, but: when warmth dies, winter will rule again…