Synchrony

 Synchrony 

Straight lines shooting upwards.

A community of trees.

Stories are told by their blackened scars.

Bark stripped away by Blue Jays, fire and careless men and women who saw an inexhaustible resource in their acres.

Winter is for rest, or at least it should be.

The trees know this.

They stand still in their snowy boots.

Thin air particles move slowly, keeping their vapors close to their own trunks and branches.

Thereby, keeping communication between giants at a minimum.

Trees know how to rest, 

How to be still, how not to sway when the time is needed to conserve energy.

Breaks in the sky suggest the sun might radiate into their shadows today.

February has its way of making us all feel in between two seasons.

A glimmer of light may pierce through these branches, 

Hyperactive squirrels pretending to hibernate will bust out the moment it flickers.

Lichen clenching onto the charred trunks will absorb it and swiftly photosynthesize sugar and oxygen.

The trees know better not to rustle their icy green needles into action, just yet.

Because they know, soon enough, the Earth’s rotation will greet the full force of our great star.

Ice melting away, gas particles vibrating faster, and trees begin to sway together again.