Lots and Lots of Magical Trees

Image via Wikipedia

I’ll dig and
plant and grow a shoe tree,

And all the
shoes will be for a poor country,

Where some
of the children don’t have shoes,

And most of
the world doesn’t have a clue,

About what
the children go through,

 

I’ll grow a
tree that has food and drink,

The children
need that, don’t you think?

Bloated
bellies and starvation are rarely understood,

Because the
world doesn’t share what it could,

 

I’ll grow a
tree that is filled with songs,

When children
sing, would that be wrong?

If my voice
blends with theirs all day long,

Singing will
help make hearts strong,

 

I’ll grow a
tree that is filled with money,

To change
their world into a land of milk and honey,

Instead of them
living from day to day,

Trying to
subsist on whatever comes their way,

 

I know one
tree can’t grow enough shoes,

It might
take more than three or two,

And the plant
that grows all kinds of food,

Will have to
be cloned if I could,

You can help
with the tree of songs,

We’ll join
hands and sing all night long,

The tree
with money will have to grow,

Because one
little tree can’t bestow,

Enough to
clothe, shelter, and feed,

Satisfying each
and every need,

My garden
will be large with lots of trees,

I can do
this if you’ll help me please,

If we plant
enough for a country or two,

There’s no
telling what we can do,

A world of
trees, new hopes and dreams,

A world with
compassion, and fewer regimes,

We’ll plant
and sow some magical seeds,

Then climb
up high and see what the world needs.

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I Followed a Path

Image by Common Pixels via Flickr

Wanting to
meditate and discover the good,

I followed a
path deep into the wood,

Until before
me a great oak tree stood,

Its branches
mighty, its crown regal and thick,

The kind of
tree I’d be if I had my pick,

I wondered,
how long has this oak been around?

What made
this oak special? Why hasn’t it blown down?

Of course, I
mused, when a storm came through,

The massive trunk
deserves the credit for what would ensue,

Yet I realized
there was more than what met the eye,

The trunk
needed support to stand and touch the sky,

Roots keeping
the oak anchored were beneath the tree,

Spreading
out in all directions for stability,

I could see the
mighty oak was more than a tree,

It was a
symbol reminding me not to judge what I see,

Because like
the oak there’s more within me,

T here’s
part of me that’s in public view,

Exposed so
people can see what I do,

But beneath my
surface my values are set,

The part of
me that might be stronger yet,

To survive
the storms of life these roots will grow,

When
troubles are encountered my character will show,

Storms in
life are impossible to outrace,

So the
challenges they bring I will embrace,

I’ll be like
the mighty oak if I learn to endure,

The storms
of life with a heart that’s pure,

I left with
knowledge from where the oak tree stood,

Followed the
path out of the wood,

My search
was over, I finally understood.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Mighty Oak and the Quaking Aspen

Image via Wikipedia

Two towering trees, their branches interlaced,

Lovingly caressed as the wind continually paced,

The wind carried their whispers to and fro,

They were rooted while the wind could go,

The two had been together since long ago,

When the young oak noticed the aspen starting to grow,

He being more gnarled and taller, was gruff,

She being slimmer and delicate, was still tough,

Despite wooden hearts, they developed rapport,

And soon their feelings progressed even more,

They were happy their memories were shared,

To each other their hopes and dreams were bared,

He loved the way her leaves fluttered in the breeze,

She loved his strength and the way he could squeeze,

Through the years they saw a progression of change,

With a variety of people, mean, good, and strange,

The Indians came and respected the land,

They honored the trees and let them stand,

They could picture their ancestors peering out,

Hunting the forest and walking about,

Then a newer group arrived one day,

Who cut down and burned away,

Most of the great forests and trees,

Creating farmlands as far as they could see,

Leaving only a few trees in small groves,

And even those were good for stoves,

These two trees, once fresh and young,

Watched helplessly as the axes rung,

 They were left because they were so mismatched,

They were glad since they were so attached,

Now they stood guard at this secluded spot,

Sentinels against the sky, whether cold or hot,

Visitors were usually welcomed with open arms,

The trees had years to develop their charms,

Urging some of their guests to rest and dally,

To observe nature and let their strength rally,

Spend the night out under the stars,

Singing campfire songs and playing guitars,

On their way home those same guests would stop,

Visit awhile and their stories they’d swap,

Those guests wanted to know the history of the trees,

Would there be answers if they said please?

How long had these trees been there?

Had the trees witnessed enough to compare?

There were other visitors though,

Who thought the forest was just so-so,

They were rude and eager to make their mark,

Carving their names into the bark,

Breaking off all the lower limbs,

Just being destructive at a whim,

 Littering the area with all kinds of trash,

Eggs in nests they would always smash,

Ruining in a day what had taken so long to create,

Beauty of any kind they would desecrate,

The trees moaned and groaned in protest,

Wondering how to get rid of these awful pests,

The hostile visitors said it was but the wind,

Ordering the old trees to be silent again,

Havoc and mayhem ruled the day,

As the unruly visitors had their way,

The oak and the aspen were carved and scorched,

And both came close to being torched,

When the group left, the trees breathed in relief,

Hoping they’d never return to give them grief,

That group was gone but more would take their place,

It was usually that way with the human race,

But they trees withstood the onslaught with aplomb,

Always dignified, peaceful, and calm,

The valley eventually became a national preserve,

And both trees volunteered to serve,

For their heartwood was still strong,

Retirement for them was simply wrong,

A few years later a mighty storm struck,

Their roots held desperately, but not their luck,

Both trees crashed heavily to the ground,

People from everywhere, miles around,

Came to see the giants as they lay,

For there was more than two trees on display,

There was something unusual, something strange,

The way the trees had fallen out of range,

Directly into the wind they had spun,

Away from people, no harm was done,

They had crushed no one, no child or mother,

They had fallen instead into the arms of each other,

Around each trunk, seedlings appeared overnight,

Smiling and greeting everyone in sight,

Some seedlings were transported to faraway places,

It is said that people who see them have happy faces,

The oak and the aspen still live in legend and tales,

 Showing kindness, compassion, and a love that prevails,

The new trees will bring magic and couples will discover,

The traits of the giants in the hearts of their lovers.

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