"Bare branches of each tree
on this chilly January morn
look so cold, so forlorn.
Gray skies dip ever so low,
left from yesterday's dusting of snow.
Yet in the heart of each tree,
waiting for each who wait to see,
new life as warm sun and breeze will blow,
like magic, unlock springs sap to flow,
buds, new leaves, then blooms will grow."
Nelda Hartmann