Trees.

There are always trees.

Trees 

rising and descending valiantly in both directions, 

seen and unseen,into the light and into the dark, 

burrowing heroically into the atmospheres 

of earth below and sky above, 

naked, vulnerable, exposed, 

beautiful 

in revelation 

and nuance, 

divine lines

holding fast, 

shuddering in the

 cold January winds, 

poised against the blue of the sky

to defy the ever present desperation of miseries 

both defined and denied, known and unknown.

Then I remember that there are trees.

There are always trees.