Begotten

A humid cloud envelops the trees,

Bearing on them its weight;

It wraps in darkness the delicate leaves;

Their splendor it does negate.

 

The fog emits an aura so eerie

That no living creature is found;

All have scattered in fear, clearly,

In search of safer ground.

 

The only sound is a distant snapping,

Crackling branches afar;

The only life is a blackbird flapping

Who heads where the lost ones are.

 

Those who remain will hide in their holes,

Cowering there in fright,

But those who remain will salvage their souls

In the marvelous, saving light.

 

The leaves now lit in glorious hue

Bask in heaven’s rays;

Branches and life the light pours through,

Begetting eternal praise.