The Tree
by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Art by William Stephen Coleman
The Tree's early leaf-buds were bursting their brown;
"Shall I take them away?" said the Frost, sweeping down.
"No, leave them alone
Till the blossoms have grown,"
Prayed the Tree, while
joy is feeling
looking upwards
skies enrapture
the sorry self
and its grievance
joy is seeing
looking westwards
social fracture
healing itself
from insurgence
joy is knowing
looking eastwards
proper culture
relieves oneself
from ignorance
joy is seeing
looking outwa
joy is knowing
the best of views
fuels volition
to climb the mount
joy is having
freedom to choose
which obstruction
one must surmount
joy is knowing
hearing the muse
is like drinking
from the youth fount
joy is having
nothing to lose
and yet having
blessings to co
when gloominess
deflects the gale
joy is the wind
that fills the sail
when despair is
tricking the scale
joy is the clue
that tells the tale
when spleen is thick
and hopes are pale
joy is meaning
that lifts the veil
when no reason
can find the trail
joy is compass
though worries hurt
and fears injure
joy yields healing
beyond measure
though gloom has roots
deep in culture
joy at all times
sages nurture
though the reasons
may outnumber
joy is the wealth
wise ones treasure
though the mundane
exerts pressure
joy is accord
with
when the constraints
the spirit faze
joy is a door
out of the maze
when nobody
offers their praise
joy is moving
on anyways
when challenges
the psyche daze
joy is clear sky
after the haze
when upheavals
disrupt the ways
joy is respite
on heavy days
when there is fault
at the crossroad
joy is knowing
the cosmic goad
when the ciphers
the wit erode
joy is insight
breaking the code
when through hard work
seeds have been sowed
joy is seeing
blessings bestowed
when there's burden
and a long road
joy is a friend
hal
joy is being given
the secret of silence
after the hard lesson
and the heavy penance
joy is being driven
to relay radiance
and this way forgiven
for past indifference
§
