Be Still

Winds of morphosis have shaken the leaves
Blown me bare and pale as bones
Where I was peach and sanguine
I'm rooted, steady, inert
A winter skeleton's cage
Cradling the flesh of my hope
Frosted and emprisoned 
Those warmer days, driven by motion
Always, to restore the growth
But in my winter it's stillness
That will be my reviver