Arctic breath coils the mountain,
Rattling the forests’ bones.
Raindrops cling to branches;
Jewelled adornment flung to earth.
Trees in winter lose their leaves. Some trees may even fall during storms, but most stand patiently and bear their fortune.
They endure rain, snow, wind, and cold. They bear the adornment of glycerin raindrops, glimmering icicles, or crowns of snow without care. They are not concerned when such lustrous spender is dashed to the ground. They stand, and they wait, the power of their growth apparently dormant. But inside, a burgeoning is building imperceptibly.
Theirs is the forbearance of being true to their inner natures. It is with this power that they withstand both the vicissitudes and adornments of life, for neither bad fortune nor good fortune will alter what they are. We should be the same way. We may have great fortune or bad, but we should patiently bear both. No matter what, we must always be true to our inner selves.
I guess this is what I need to remember when I am being “apparently dormant”. Perhaps there is a burgeoning building in me these days. I do find I slow down a lot in winter, but in the year since my mom’s death, I’ve been pretty dormant. I haven’t found a lot of need for activity lately. But I think I am true to my inner self – at least I try to be.
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