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Grounded
The great tree stood silhouetted
Against the winter sky,
Its limbs twisted and gnarled with age,
Its branches bare.
Yet it beckoned.
The ground was cold and hard.
Winter lay upon the land
Yet still she felt the pull
Pulsing through her body,
And in acquiescence
Allowed the primal urge
To lead her to the mighty giant.
Touching its rough old bark
She felt its strength surge into her own limbs.
Energized and grounded once more
She whispered, "Thank you".
Once again the woodland monarch
Had helped her in time of need.
