Tree Dreams

It begins with bare branches against a white sky, tendrils of spilled ink on a blank page

Skeletal fingers reaching up, waiting patiently, resting, until they tire of rest

They wake gently, with pale green buds, pearls of possibility and promise

Then carefully wrap each branch in clouds, scent them with the finest perfume

Tint them a thousand shades of pink, till the sunrise pales in jealousy

Then they drench themselves in green, a season of endless emeralds

And every tree will believe itself as beautiful as it can be

But then...

Oh, but then...

Then there is a dragon’s hoard of jewels encrusted on every branch

Citrine, carnelian, topaz, golden amber, rivers of ruby and gleaming garnet

Then there is a treasure trove of exotic spices scattered on every surface

Cinnamon, saffron, turmeric, nutmeg and clove

Then there is lemon silk, apricot velvet, berry and peach brocade

Scraps of sunlight and morsels of marigold, pumpkin warm and citrus bright

Then there is glory and grandeur, fire and flame, blood and gold

Then there is calm and comfort, fireplace warmth and hot apple cider

And then the evening light bathes everything in golden honey

And the air itself is as rich and sweet as caramel

And the ground is covered in a gilded carpet that crackles and sings with every step

And when at last the trees have exhausted themselves with their own resplendence

Let them rest, and wait, and dream