MANGLED BEAUTY

How neglected are those old dead trees
With arms knotted and mangled
They fail to see the beauty
In the many vines and tangles.
But I see it there.
It lies in the decrepit bark
Haunted, alone, and bare
It stands menacing in the dark.
Yet, within its very core
Within the heart of it
There is life in the midst of gore
Where the bugs and the animals sit.
Mangled and gnarled though it may be
My heart swells up with cheer
It's the dark beauty of such a tree
That warms my heart each year.