Looking Outside

Outside my window I see.
Branches empty, bereft of their burdens,
awaiting anew once again.
Naked they stand unadorned, stark,
the passing of seasons and times of change for them.
Soon green youth, maturing, fleeting,
and then naked once more.
Beauty in each. Beauty in passing.

Outside my window I see.
Beside the naked frame exists one like and yet not.
The constantly clothed conifer.
Through season's change the steadfast needles remain.
Beauty constant and consistent. Serene simplicity.
One day too this tree will stand naked and unadorned.
It's needles shed, it's colour dropped,
it's time come to an end.

Outside my window I see.
Beauty.
In life: in death;
in picking up burdens: in laying them down;
in constancy: in change.
In the process of living which is the process of dying.

Outside my window I see.
Do other people see which I see?