Poem: People and Trees


Some people are like trees.

There are the pines

who grow swiftly, tall,

always a touch too lofty

beautiful and dangerous

like earth angels stretching

half grown needle wings

up towards heaven

aspiring too high

for the spread of their

earth roots. Mid fall

they die, their long pride

crushing the unlucky who

stop in this accidental

inevitable path.

There are the dogwoods.

The fairies of our race

wirery and limber

a bit of an ugly duckling

until spring.

Those moments of

energy bursting

forth in flower and faith


reminders of

beauty; its fleeting

nature and the perfection

of its moments

of presence.

Fragile, resurrected

these are the

folks who remind

us of faith.

There are the oaks

like the few I saw

today- tall as the young pines, but

wrinkled and

gnarled with age.

They are steady, trustworthy.

Oaks perservere

and remember their roots–

they build a base inch by inch.

Galapagos tortises these

mighty oaks. Their lives measured

in jouneys around

not in speed.

A lesson for us all.

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