I wonder as I gaze into a foggy sunrise
how that great ball of energy manages
to pull me in
And yet equally as moving
is a bare pine tree given up for dead
and nothing more than a silhouette
before the Sun
It reminds me that little things mean a lot
and the natural world never really dies
It lives between the Sun and the barren tree
As do we
There is no "one" or the other
but a connection that the eyes see
and the heart feels