Hawthorn Tree

Hawthorn tree! Hawthorn tree!
Wounded by the raging sea
With nails-thorns in place of shoots
And twisted limbs on plaited roots.

Were thy source another seed
Another tree thou could have been
A scented rose or clematis
That floats upon the summer bliss.

But blown around the way you do
When raining drives the nails through
It seems to me your destiny
Besets you like a tragedy.

Still, every year around this time
When spring unfolds her soul sublime
Small blooms upon your boughs alight
Like nestlings of a flower sprite.

O Hawthorn tree! Hawthorn tree!
Wounded by the raging sea
May those little nesting sprites
Thaw your hawthorns back to life.