To A Tree Poem by Paul Reed

"Thou didst look down
Upon the naked earth, and, forthwith, rose
All these fair ranks of trees. They, in thy sun,
Budded, and shook their green leaves in the breeze,
And shot towards heaven."

From ‘A Forest Hymn' by William Cullen Bryant

You wait for me there,
More patient than any man
As your oak heart still-beats
To the thudding passage of time,
A patience that the breezes sustain
As if ruffling someone's hair with praise
For a feat well done;
Your spine, arched and coarse,
Split in two but forever joined,
Each reaching triumphantly for the sky,
Your feet thirsting for the underground brook
Searching and probing
Ever with trust and steadfastness,
Not concerned with turbulent events
Or mankind's doings;
Leaves,
A glorious gathering of summer friends
Relishing the moment,
Swaying in rhythm to the dance
Knowing they soon have to part;
And the whole,
One century seen, another to come
Branching outwards
In the hope of heaven.