But 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 sweet earth’s 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.

– Joyce Kilmer

A very special tree came into our house yesterday. For the first time in the history of ever, I did not help pick it out. Tim and the boys went off in search. And came back within the hour. With our Christmas tree.

It was not the tree I would have picked.

It was not a big tree.


This tree. Was not any of that.

I ranted.

And raved.

I crazied all over the house.

Then. Regardless of everyone and myself I decorated our tiny, mini tree.

And felt like the fool.

Because it is beautiful.

How could it not be?

It’s our Christmas tree.


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