• Susan Stoderl


Moon Mother, guardian of night’s mystery,

Softly awaits dawn’s transfiguring glory.

Recasting despair into light,

languor into curiosity,

Moon Mother propels his barren branches

Into a web of celestial magic

fostering transfiguration.

Angry Tree’s big boned branches

reach high into the heavens,

Catching the holy spirit of a

newborn Warrior Tree,

At last donning his coat of verdant spring finery,

He guards the pregnant pines below,

while tree maidens swish flowery skirts upon the breeze.

Asheville, 4/6/20


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