The Tree and the Sky

The tree is walking around in the rain
moving past us in the squishy gray.
It has a job to do. It picks life out of the rain
like a blackbird in a cherry orchard.

As soon as the rain stops, the tree stops too.
It simply stands, motionless in the clear nights,
waiting just as we do for that moment
when snowflakes will throw themselves out in space.

--Tomas Transtromer (translated by Robert Bly)

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