Ode to a Tree

I watch them often

  to see their faithfulness,

    to hear their assurances,

      to know their presence,

        to sense their changing,

always in awe and amazement.

 

Far above me they rise, 

   stretching and reaching,

     waiting and watching, 

        to tell the many stories

          of all of us below

who have lived and labored.

  

Who they are is but a tree, 

   and who I am is but a man,

     here not as long as they,

       the new part of creation,

         and they always the old

with God's lessons in their limbs.

 

Teach me, Lord of the trees,

    to see the invisible before me,

      to hear You in passing wind, 

       to join their uplifted branches

         with hands raised in praise,

to rejoice that You made each and all.