Trees*
I think that I shall never see A poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is prest Against the sweet earth’s 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
I love living in an area of the country where we experience four seasons. The beautiful colors of Spring, the long light filled days of Summer, the crisp colorful mornings of Autumn and the stillness of a good snowstorm in Winter. Today is a beautiful Spring day. There is a blue sky with white puffy clouds and the colors of spring are breaking forth. The pinks and whites of ornamental trees, the greens of the willow trees and the yellow of the forsythia paint a picture of life returning to the drab landscape after a long winter. Except we didn’t have a long hard winter this year. There is a sense that something is missing. A sense that we skipped a part of the seasonal story but also a sense that may not be a bad thing. I guess it is a sense of did we get off too easy, will there be a price to pay for not having a real winter, a waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maybe it is a sense that this is too good to true – Spring without a real Winter. I wonder does that actually happen. Well, in the meantime I am going to enjoy it. How about you?
* My husband’s favorite poem. Actually I think it is the only poem he ever read 🙂
