Jan
9
2024
Poems and Trees
Posted in Faith 2 Comments
New houses are being built at the end of my street.
They will be at the end of my street and across the road.
Across the road and on bucolic, open land.
Open land that had steer, which often came to the fence and looked at me on my walk.
My walk has been a bit shorter after my knee issue last spring.
I am gradually getting my distance and speed up to where it was before.
So much has changed in the landscape during that time.
I am sure the houses will be lovely, complete with a walking trail, but I miss the old view.
I used to see mist over the fields in the early morning.
It reminded me of the English moors.
I felt as if I was Elizabeth Bennett walking to see Mr. Darcy.
The sun rose above those fields and I marveled at the sky fire before me.
What saddens me most are the trees.
Wooded areas will be on the periphery of the new development; however, many trees are gone.
The large trunks are piled in heaps.
Wood chips are in a mountainous pile, with steam rising from the top.
If trees could talk.
If their rings could be counted.
The nakedness of the land saddens me.
A periphery of trees is simply not enough.
I am in good company with Tolkien, who often had anthropomorphic tree creatures in his work.
Tolkien disliked the damage being done to his English countryside.
He imagined the trees being angry because they were being cut down.
He imagined the trees going to war.
I am sad to see the beautiful trees in a pile, looking much like pick up sticks.
I am not a builder, and have no idea of the excavation process…but the trees.
Isn’t there another way?
I remember when a friend visited me from out west.
She had never seen countryside like she saw here.
As we drove around, so she could see my neck of the woods, she was amazed.
They just cleared enough trees to build the roads! She exclaimed.
It’s like they built all the houses among the trees, she added.
That was many years ago.
More houses and developments have been built since then.
I don’t know if she could say the same thing today.
Perhaps that is why I drive to the land of Amish buggies when I need to rejuvenate my spirit.
I like open space.
I love trees.
I enjoy seeing cows in a pasture and sheep on a hillside.
I love to see horses grazing within the confines of a fence that barely seems to hold them.
I am sure that when the houses are actually built, the memory of trees piled in a heap will fade.
I am certain that the homes will be landscaped beautifully.
But the trees.
I can relate to Tolkien’s imagination.
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.
I memorized the poem, Trees, by Joyce Kilmer when I was young.
Some lines and stanzas stand out above the rest.
I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A poem.
A masterpiece.
Kilmer wrote that only God can make a tree.
The beauty and strength of a tree seems to call to me.
For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago. (Ephesians 2:10 NLT)
We are God’s masterpiece.
Literally, we are God’s poem. (poiema)
When God writes a poem, He writes us.
Imagine.
i know how you feel–when i moved to my current house i was on the only street in our development but as time went on other homes appeared. and just recently many trees in front of our homes were cut down because they got too big and their roots were impacting the water lines. So sad to see them go!
Sue,
It is sad! The older trees cannot be replaced. New trees can be planted, but often replanting does not happen.
Gina