Silver Birch
Underneath a silver birch,
the leaves are swaying coldly.
The silver peal of dieing hurt,
is winding downward slowly.
But wilt the trembling birch does not,
it's branches green and fruitful,
and not from tearing wind does crack,
the rain to ground will trickle.
Now we see immortal branch,
it bears both life and death,
the silver leaf of silver birch,
the branch with mourning black.
Without one comes not the other,
dark comes with the light,
Rose and thorn twine like a lover,
so do death and life.
YOU ARE READING
Life Nature Death
PoetryEnchanting, Haunting, Dangerous. Be prepared for the truths of life, the laughs you'll need in between, and a fulfilling adventure through this randomly assorted poetry collection.
