I saw a tree as bare as bones,
and sought to make it grow.
But I missed that it was winter there,
inside the tree, within its lair.
For in the world of my own,
it was already summer in tone;
thus I missed the wondrous state,
when the tree began to grow of late,
and found a sight of great repose
when I turned and saw the tree had rose
above the station I had assigned,
finding Winter and Summer close aligned