An Offering

Between bright rays of light and cool shadows,

We ran amidst growing green.

Too warm for gloves, hats, and winter coats,

Yet too cold to relinquish our woolen sleeves.

We found an offering beside an ancient soul tree,

Who’s branches lay naked beneath azure sky.

It was an offering placed with care,

Between two rolling roots.

With pedals wilted by the sun,

They lay a treasure of fading jewels.

Who was it made to?

Where did they come from?

Let me capture this moment alone,

Where only the tree will know.

-M.E. InkOwl