I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
~Joyce Kilmer, “Trees,” 1914
We can learn a lot from trees: they’re always grounded but never stop reaching heavenward. ~
Not only are my favorite rusty-crusty cars getting auctioned off (read my last post), but too many old, beautiful trees are being cut down for the sake of “development.” These trees (pictured above) are in a newly developed subdivision, but I often wonder if the trees will remain or be torn down when more lots are sold.
Each time a tree is torn down my inner soul cries out in mourning; much like losing a dear friend. Sigh. Trees, I feel, have so much beauty, personality, individuality, character, etc…...if one will only take time to observe.