Bare winter branches float against
a sullen sky in bitter world;
the shadowed, ashen haze recalls
an ancient promise from
a smoldering fire-pot.
The springtime tree is kindled by
a blaze of bursting scarlet buds,
while blood-red petals bless the ground.
It seems a bush ablaze
with unconsuming fire.
Its summer green conceals bright fire
within a pillared cloud of leaves
providing wanderers with peace
and rest that’s only found
in providential shade.
The autumn sun that melts first frost
glows red within translucent leaves,
transformed with heaven’s instant fire,
like blazing answer to
a righteous prophet’s prayer.
A fresh, new gale has fully come
fulfilling promises of old,
with rushing of its mighty wind;
it whirls the flaming leaves
like pentecostal tongues.
© Glenda Mathes