Poem 9 Trees
I love being in the trees or forests ... there are places where I feel closer to God and to hearing His voice, so I will often go to the woods
Trees
There’s something about trees and me
An attraction , a drawing near
From single spreading chestnut
Or draping weeping willow
To close grown forest pine
Even cut down made into fire-awaiting log piles
Something about the texture
The size and grandeur of a stately oak
Or the perfect shape of cultured bonsai
Leaf blowing
Trunk swaying
Fragile sapling
Long growing
Snow holding
Season watching
Trees
I wonder what they have seen over the years
What secrets they hold
The birds that have nested
The people who have sheltered
What storms they have weathered
There is something of awe and majesty
The sheer size of a sequoia
The microcosmic world encompassing a tree
Encircling and covering
Overarching
Overshadowing
Surrounding
Breeze swaying
Shelter – providing
Noise cancelling
Intertwining
Trees
And here in the forest I have stood
In awe – inspired silence
Inside heavy stillness
With heart-stopping expectation
With here and there
The drilling of a woodpecker
The scuttle of a squirrel
The screeching of an owl
The call of a jay
The dancing sway of pine
The autumn fall of leaves
The spreading majesty of centuries
Of oak , or elm , or cedar
I hear God deeply in this cathedral of the forest
I hear myself, my heartbeat , my breathing
I feel the heavy stillness
The still small voice
Which calls me back again and again to the One who made
Trees
John nutall March 2018