(Inspired by “Good Timber” by Douglas Malloch)
The tree that never faced the storm,
Nor bent beneath the weight of form,
But basked in calm, unbroken light,
And never knew the depths of night,
Never rose to touch the sky,
But lived and fell where it did lie.
The seed that never knew the dark
Or pushed through soil to leave its mark,
That never strained to find the sun
Nor wrestled roots with anyone,
Never became a giant tall
But stayed a sapling, weak and small.
True giants are not made in ease,
The cruelest winds, the mightiest trees,
The broader sky, the greater rise,
The deeper roots, the wider skies.
Through drought and flood, through fire and frost,
In trees and men, the strong are tossed.
Where ancient woods embrace the wind,
We find the souls that do not bend,
And they converse with stars and moon,
Their scars a testament, a tune,
Of battles won, of darkness fought,
This is the law that life has taught.
In silence deep, their wisdom sings,
That strength is born in struggling,
And those who face the fiercest gales
Will stand where lesser spirits fail.
For trees and men alike must strive,
To truly grow, to truly thrive.
