A tree, barren of leaves, rests quietly in the courtyard. Drops of rain from the night before hang, like pearls, on the empty branches. Under a sky clouded shut and sunless morning, she waits…..expectant.
There is no anxiety here, no worry of ‘when’. She waits, quiet and still, arms raised upwards. She will bloom again, this she knows. Leaves lush and green, birds and fruit making a home in her arms. She has only to be still and keep looking up.
How does she know this? Because she knows she is in the hands of a Master. She knows she was created to bloom, to blossom.
She has not been forgotten. Spring is coming.
