Wintertime Trust

Wintertime Trust
Huddled barren branches flank the river banks,
Casting shadows on the grey-green cloud of water . . .
Wintertime desolation.
And from the bridge above in solitude I say,
"The barrenness.
The shadows,
The near - stagnation,
a vision of my soul . . .
Wintertime desolation.
There is no need or energy for denial:
The scene and I are mirrored in stark reality
except for this . . .
I can choose
And with great deliberateness, I do
I choose . . . wintertime trust.
Trust that believes in the process,
in the buried life within those dreary branches.
Trust that foretells the dispelling of shadows into blossoms
and the promise of a flowing river once again.
Trust that proclaims the unseen as different from the unreal
Trust that does not wait to stake its claim.
I will not wait for my soul's spring to say
"I trust"
I say it now.
And even as I do,
the welcome warmth of tears
hints of coming thaw.
© Maridel Bowes 1980