TREES by Eleanor Shepherd

    In Grade Six, an English teacher introduced me to a poem by the American poet, Joyce Kilmer, who died fighting in the First World War. The simple and delicate beauty of the poem so impressed me that nearly all of the six two line stanzas have remained with me from that time until now. That was in the late 1950’s. 

            The poem says:

                        I think that I shall never see

                        A poem lovely a a tree.

 

                        A tree whose hungry mouth is prest

                        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.

 

            Yesterday the words of this poem came back to me again as Glen and I were enjoying a picnic on the Niagara Parkway.  It was not the holiday we had originally planned.  This was the year that the whole family was going to enjoy a holiday together on Prince Edward Island.  However Covid put an end to that plan. 

 

            Instead Glen and I came to visit friends on the Niagara peninsula, at a place where we could still practice social distancing while our daughter and son-in-law tried to finish the renovations they were doing for us at our place when Covid hit. 

 

            The weather has been so hot this summer that whenever we venture out of our air-conditioned comfort, we head for the shade of the trees.  Perhaps that is what has made me so aware of them. Plus my daily morning walks, when I find myself as I walk along the lakeshore looking for the places where I will be able to walk mostly in the shade of the trees.

 

            As I opened the blinds this morning and looked out, I saw near the house where we are staying a tree so enormous, I had to bend my head way back to try to see the top.  I called Glen to ask him how tall he thought it must be.  Together we agreed that it was at least five or six stories high. 

 

            This new fascination with trees intrigues me.  I have always loved the way that the trees turn such beautiful colours in the fall.  I am struck by their starkness on the winter landscapes and how they are softened by the gentle covering of snow they often don. With eager anticipation, I await the signs of the first budding of the leaves in the spring, that heralds the end of winter and promises the end of ice and snow and warmer weather to come. 

 

            Awareness of the trees and what is happening in the world of nature is another one of a series of gifts that I have received during this season of isolation. We all know that this has not been an easy time of any of us. All of our routines were curtailed by having to change our way of living. At first we were up for the challenge but as the months went on, we began to desire what was familiar but no longer possible. 

 

The gift for me was that in the midst of all this, I found the capacity to appreciate the beauty that surrounds me, not just rushing past the trees but actually stopping to look at these strong and steady messengers and listening to what they might tell me about my perspective. Through them I heard echoed the words of the Psalmist, “Be still and know that I am God.”   

Word Guild Award 

        2011

                                                                                 Word Guild Award 

                                                                                            2009