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The circadian rhythms of birth, death, and
Eternity, play on in the sunrise of time:
The dread of winter left you naked and bare;
Your bark skin, scale-like and wrinkled—knotted.
Then came the spring of life clothing you
With appetite foliage attracting nature's children
Seeking your warm and nourishing bosom:-
Now in the autumn of your life, you ape graying age
With rainbow-hued leaflets hanging and dropping
Their Joseph Coat carpeting on Mother Earth's floor;
Creeping out from behind the clouds, old winter
teases the time with chilling winds of change:
Firmly rooted, you proudly stand, arms swaying;
Self-assured of your survival of time’s circadian rhythms.
