The
evergreen, the Ponderosa, the Sequoia
Tower
so high—so great,
So
high they reach out to lightning fate.
High
up, birds hover near the nest;
Far
beneath them, peace and quiet gives us rest.
They
even hide us from the stars,
From
Venus, Jupiter, or Mars.
We
tranquil land bound creatures search,
Enveloped
in our tree-branch church;
We
are so impotent, so puny, frail,
Surrounded
by these trees and trail.
We
rest on beds of branches and leaves,
As
if to hide from bandits or thieves.
Truly
memorable this short nature tour,
A
momentary gift … a lure,
Then
back to life’s reality … so soon,
Under
the watch of a friendly moon.
Now
daily chores and obligations
Erase
the pleasure of man’s primal sensations.
The
rustic forest shall wait
Those who
search beyond heaven’s gate.
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