Look to the Trees for How to Be

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 Look to the Trees for How to Be


The grain of pine planks in my ceiling spirals and eddies, a silently eloquent river of wood.

Outside, the eyes of beech trees seem to smile as their leaves whisper in the wind.

Hard woods - brawny, standing lumber - are also limber, almost willowy, in a gale.  

The fruit-bearing ones share their bounty with birds and humans alike, year after year.

All their kin remove destructive carbon in the air, and replace it with the life-giving air we breathe.

Rooted deep in earth, the wooden ones know also the places on-high where the heavens begin.

Trees, arms uplifted, rustle, sough, and sing of the glories of life.

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