Trees Poem by Terry Dawson

With perfect certainty all know
The wondrous ways of trees that grow.

Their sacred forms against the sky
Inspire all who pass them by

While thirsting roots have stealthy-found
Their liquid banquet underground

And each has with perfection laid
Soft, leafy resting place in shade

Baring gnarled trunk with scarred, bowed bough
Yet glad-beheld by man somehow.

And gives each year abundant yield
By crafty methods well concealed.

The mighty tree like destiny
Bestows its gifts on you and me!