Last night's storm stripped all the limbs and leaves from off the dawn side of the Bradford pear. Now half the tree stands, suddenly bereaved, split from top to bottom, wind-shocked, bare in two-dimensioned symmetry. I view the sunset side as if the tree were whole, a vestige of what was, and think of you - the shattered remnant of a single soul. Now its green heart opens to the sky and morning light pours through it like a sieve. The tree will stand awhile. Who knows how long? Perhaps for years. As long as it shall live, the nesting birds shall fill the dawn with song. I pray the next wind passes gently by. -- copyright November 1998 Jerry Jenkins
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