I hear the northern howl
calling to me, its lost child.

He who has not seen a fiery forest,
nor smelled a cold morning's crispness,
is no acquaintance to nature's beauty.

After time it may look dreary
as all is frozen and nothing is wild.
Noses will run, sensations go numb, and people growl.

The stillness is an illusion,
the danger an intrusion.
Appreciate the latter
to see through the former.

The naked tree is not preoccupied
with the cost of winter.
It looks only forward: the promise of summer.

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