Today, as I took a quiet walk in the park, I stopped to admire this magnificent tree standing tall before me. Its trunk was thick with leaves, ferns and moss growing along its bark, while its branches reached wide into the soft blue sky. For a moment, I stood still, listening to the rustle of its leaves and feeling a deep sense of peace.
As I gazed up, Joyce Kilmer’s timeless poem came to mind:
“I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet 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 whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.”
Standing beneath its vast canopy, I felt every line come alive, the prayerful arms, the intimate dance with rain, the quiet strength rooted deep within the earth. There is something sacred about trees. They live not for themselves but for everything around them, giving shade, air, and calm to those who seek refuge beneath.
I am grateful for their presence, their patience, and their wisdom. They remind me that growth takes time, and that beauty often comes from endurance, from standing tall through storms and seasons, and continuing to reach for the light.
Today, I give thanks for the trees, for the poetry they embody, for the life they sustain, and for the peace they whisper to those who pause long enough to listen.
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