Trees

 

I love trees. They stand like silent sentinels surrounding, hovering, watching, guarding. Reclining on my deck looking up at their majestic faces at twilight I can feel their presence and personalities like old friends.

Running Wolf's Favorite Poem

There is an eagle in me and a spotted bird hurrying corn to grow.

The eagle flies to the mountains of my dreams,

flies to the corners of my distant hopes.

But the spotted bird stands among the cornstalks telling me to hoe.

My hands are the tools of my soul.

They make the drum,

the bow,

the flute,

and stretch the skin of the deer.

They work the earth and care for the sheep and plant the corn.

They greet my homeland each morning that I awake.

Author unknown

A Spring Poem

Since Spring Break is finally upon us (at least for those of you who live near me), I thought it'd be appropriate to share a springish poem with you. Most of you know this one, and if you do, I hope you enjoy it again. If you've never read this one before, you're in for a treat. :)

 

I WANDERED LONELY AS A CLOUD

 

I WANDERED lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host, of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the milky way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed--and gazed--but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

                    -William Wordsworth