TREES: 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 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 her bosom snow has lain;

Who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.



I woke up this morning thinking about trees, and the poem by Joyce Kilmer came to mind. It is a poem that I learned in my High School English class many years ago, but apparently never forgot. The author Joyce Kilmer has always been synonymous with trees for me, I guess. And this is the time that I notice trees, more than any other time of the year. Today they are blowing about with signs of the coming winter and cold weather. Soon their leaves will change to all those awesome colors (why does that happen again?), and then their leaves will fall to the ground. There is a favorite book of mine by Leo Buscaglia called "The Fall of Freddie the Leaf...a story of Life for All Ages" and is an inspiring allegory illustrating the balance between life and death. Freddie the Leaf is one of the last leaves to fall from the tree he is on, and when he does, to quote, "Freddie landed on a clump of snow. It somehow felt soft and even warm. In this new position he was more comfortable than he had ever been. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. He did not know that Spring would follow Winter and that the snow would melt into water. He did not know that what appeared to be his useless dried self would join with the water and serve to make the tree stronger. Most of all, he did not know that there, asleep in the tree and the ground, were already plans for new leaves in the Spring." Having just had an intimate experience with death as I sat with my sister-in-law while she lay dying, this thought is comforting; that life goes on in some way, and that, even in death, we are part of life continuing. If you have never read this book, I recommend it; it is also good for children when trying to explain death to them.

I have some favorite trees; one being the Aspen of Colorado. When we lived there, we never missed a season to drive up into the mountains and see the spectacular array of Aspen trees awash in yellow color, their leaves fluttering like an orchestra playing their beautiful music all in harmony. Today, I am most happy with our Birch tree that lives in our back yard with her three white trunks coming gracefully up from the ground. She is a beauty, and in the fall, her leaves remind me much of the Aspens. And when she begins to shed her leaves in that dance of nature, I am always reminded of Freddie, and watch for the last leaf to fall to take its place in the mysterious cycle of life. Ah, trees...a precious gift of nature that we must continue to plant and preserve for our world to survive. I have been watching Ken Burn's National Parks documentary on Public T.V. and have a new appreciation for all the people who strove hard to preserve some of our forests and trees for the common good by way of creating the national parks. Thanks to all the men and women who did this for all of us. May we continue to preserve and keep our park lands for all future generations.