It was tall and thin and scraggly and prim Then I saw another just as perfect Short and sturdy with branches and brambles And then another with a rugged fat trunk Older than the rest, but just as perfect I saw a dozen trees in a clump sharing the light So their growth was stunted But regal they were, plumped and perfect And then a small twisted tree with leaves fallen, trunk slanted all the more perfect
A man-child from Mississauga heading to bend steel To make his fortunes in the Alberta oil fields; “I’ve never seen so many trees in my whole life” A balding dude 30 years a social worker Retiring home to Winnipeg, calms; “Where I come from they cut them all down, long, long, long before I was born.” And I am reminded—This land, this land Where cities have sprouted, Blooming glistening skyscrapers at night T’was all covered with trees once One big forest we were once All perfect trees.
So I conclude that we do need poets in these times. Wisdom is a calming thing.
Here's a calming image - a little bit of sunshine for afternoon tea.
