Men, Like Trees Walking

“I THINK that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. A tree whose hungry mouth is pressed against the sweet earth’s 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 remember this Joyce Kilmer poem hanging as a plaque on the wall of our living room when I was growing up. I have always been fascinated by trees; awed by their strength and beauty, and the way they “lift their leafy arms to pray.” I find it interesting that Mark 8 records Jesus’ only two-stage miracle when he first touched the blind man’s eyes and he saw “men as trees walking.” Continue reading “Men, Like Trees Walking”