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By: PaysConteur~

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Just outside my window an oak is sleeping.
It’s leaves have all blown, hither and thither.
However , this oak is safely keeping,
something that passing time cannot wither.
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A silent friend, an imperial sage,
whose silhouette glorifies the moonlight.
A tree so solid ,weathering with age,
limbed in heavens immeasurable height.
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Tenderly growing with endless reason
with ruggedness engrained into it’s will.
Quiet fortitude endears each season
hushing the wind so sweet, so soft, so still.
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Looking through immortal eyes upon death
my heart , in one eternal instant rose
Rendering silence with a quiet breath;
honored by what heavenly moonlight chose.
~
As beautiful as November days can be,
dark as night, how wonderful the contrast.
How can someone love a bare leafless tree;
limbed with a future rooted in the past.
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Silently conducting wind, earth, and air;
the face of heaven breathes to me a prayer.
When all the fields are lying brown and bare,
there is still something precious standing there.
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Beyond the bounds of earthly cares and fears,
blessings are limbs bathed in heavenly light.
Reaching up through the shadows of passed years;
strength shines brighter than the moon at midnight.
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Growing now rooted in both earth and sky;
a larger pain for those who stand alone.
In the moonlight of night without a sigh,
the power of the spirit is unknown.
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One kind soul glorifying another.
In the presence of such strength reaching high,
alone shining brightly, for the other.
My heart wants to climb, my heart wants to fly
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Gazing upon a continuous dream
hope rises where we only, wish to go.
As steadfast as, this magnificent scene,
life burns with a gleam glittered with it’s glow.
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There is a secret that stirs in these limbs
shadowing these stark bare branches of wood.
From this world to the sky, the wind sings hymns,
silencing a world seldom understood.
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The essence of love created this place.
Glorifying all which touch us so well.
Within my heart these moonlit paths I trace.
Where will they lead me ?I can scarcely tell.

~

PaysConteur