Only God Can Make a Tree
I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest against the earth's sweet 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.
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