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…
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