Today, I am surprising myself by sharing two poems, and all because I happened to be admiring a sycamore tree as I left work today. Though the following poems both describe trees in full bloom, trees can also be lovely in winter!
by Grace Noll Crowell
Pass it not without a grateful heart:
This wayside tree that climbs the glittering air–
For any traveler who would rest him there.
Watch it balance on its roots and take
Its upward way with swift increasing power,
Until at last the silver-sprayed boughs break
Like a fountain come to sudden emerald flower:
So closely petaled it shuts out the sky,
Yet the gold sun pierces it and pools of light
Shimmer beneath it. You, who would pass by,
Stop for a moment in your onward flight,
And bathe in beauty that the hand of God
Has loosed upon the parched and thirsty sod.
by Joyce Kilmer
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 live with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
Crowell, Grace Noll. 1946. The Wind-Swept Harp. New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers.
Kilmer, Joyce. 1914. Trees and Other Poems. Garden City, New York: Doubleday & Company, Inc.