Leafless Prophecy

   Most days the camera lens wants to avoid telephone lines, poles, and yellow stripes on the road. It tries to exclude ugly concrete forms and hunting stands. Warnings caution about glare on closed windows. Watch out for unwanted shade from screens. Question including any unraked fallen leaves. 

      But for this moment, grey skies invite forgiving. Maybe paradise says so. Widen beauty enough for the shadowed lands. Know connections demand accepting imperfection. Windows look out even when the glass isn’t polished. And reflections matter much. 

      In mid-life years, leafless limbs of winter whispered forebodingly; old, now bare, trees prophesy life eternal. 

Prophesy: (transitive verb) to predict with assurance or on the basis of mystic knowledge; (intransitive verb): to speak as if divinely inspired.