Poetry

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I love trees
The swaying branches and leaves
Dancing with the wind
While the meadowlark sings.

Each has its own personality
Its own character
Be they young or old
So graceful.

They remain steady
As the world changes around them
The stories they could tell
As their roots grow deeper.

The blazing colors of autumn
And the shedding of the leaves
As winter contemplates the rebirth
Of spring comes the new growth
Of vibrant leaves for the wind
To brush its fingers through.

Oh and the morning dew that leaves
The leaves so lush and beautiful
As they glisten in the sunlight
Sometimes they're like an audience
That applauds your very presence.

Their sturdy trunks so powerful
And even when they are chopped down
They continue to grace us with their beauty
In other forms so profound
Like furniture and homes
And doorways and ships.

But the most regal of its form
Is simply as it stands on the lawn
Or in a forest arms spread majestically
Embracing the face of God.


© 2009

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