A Lone Shrub

Early light filters through summer leaves
Swaying in a gentle breeze
Leaves up high catch the sun
Which does not reach the ground
Or the one lone shrub
Outside my window
Twisted into strange shapes
It searches for the light
That is not there
Half of its branches have given up
The leaves are gone
They have become hard, dry, brittle
Like the bones Ezekiel saw
"What good is this?" I ask
"I will cut it down
I will get rid of what is dead
And make room for life"
I start to turn, but then
A scrub jay lands
On a branch so dry and lifeless
It has split lengthwise
He perches, searching for food
Or perhaps the materials for a home
His head turning from side to side
The breeze blows, and for an instant
A beam of sunlight casts upon his head
It disappears just as quickly
I think I'll let the shrub be