Pace

The tree grows at its own pace,
Patiently savouring seasons day after day.
It’s not all regular, uniform and in one go.

I see the one right outside my window.
It stands still, all winter, frozen but alive,
Until the ice melts and spring arrives.

The leaves grow, in all directions,
Searching for their ray of sunshine
Between the droplets of rain.

Some days are nothing but storms.
The heat grows stronger, the trunk follows,
It branches out, taking up more space.

Taller than ever, feeling like forever
Full of leaves, life and hope.
Then, fall fades the greens to yellows.

A few oranges and reds shine through
The sorrow of no longer feeling tall,
It knows that winter is next.

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©Mayra Gomes. All rights reserved.