Wonder Of A Tree

Wonder Of A Tree

I never pause to look upon a tree
Without partaking of its mood
That reaching calmly forth, envelopes me
Within a tent of quietude.

A weathered oak or elm, a singing pine
That God has breathed on, lifts my heart
Until its mood has permeated mine
With something only trees impart:

A rugged sweep of strength and beauty won
From storms that I could never breast,
A stillness drawn from mist and rain and sun,
From sheltering a robin's nest;

The wonder of a tree against the sky
Whose mood is felt but never known,
Inalienable loveliness that I
Would gather close and make my own.

~ Marie Barton

From my mother's poetry notebook

He Who Loves The Winter

He Who Loves The Winter

He who loves the winter understands
The blue-white peace of forestlands.

He who walks a swamp-trail, soft with snow
Shall learn a secret which few men know.

He who climbs the contour of a hill
Shall commune with Time if his heart stands still.

He who hears the whir of partridge wings
Shall remember forever a number of things.

He who finds a willow, glowing red,
Shall flame with faith which quickens the dead.

He who loves the winter sufficiently
Shall tower toward heaven like a tall pine tree.

~ Harry Elmore Hurd

From my mother's poetry notebook