Trees

Among the trees I took a stroll
to see if I could find my soul.
The snow was a crisp shiny mist
in the moonlight of winter's midst.

Dead leaves struggled within the breeze
their summer greens no longer teased.
Their days of hope were in the past
as only their dead shapes did last.

Through the trees I walked alone
hoping for my sins to atone.
Of all the days that have since passed
that righteous day my mind holds fast.

On that day I found a new home,
a place beneath the holy dome.
The hissing snows were my curing,
their beauty my soul adjuring.

Now my soul rests among the trees
forever bound in brown dead leaves.
For now in winter can I face
the beauty of snow's healing grace.