An English Sonnet singing the praises of a glorious tree. |
| To sit beneath its glorious branches To breath in the freshness and purity Feel stillness, know I am one in ashes And know time stands still here in obscurity To lift my face and smile at God divine Thank Him for this gift of shade and delight Take in the sights the smell of pine and vine Let go of the world and its heavy plight Ease into this place, nature’s cathedral Where the divine whispers within branches A heavenly choir rises up angels And a breeze plays at the leaves of birches. These trees raise bows up in praise and glory Embrace their power in a single tree. An English Sonnet written the September round of
"Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven." - Rabindranath Tagore |