What do you see when you look at a tree—
A big blob of brown and of green?
Or do you see what I see when I see a tree?
Read on, and you’ll see what I mean:
A live jungle gym, grown for boys and for girls,
A maker of acorns for gray, frisky squirrels,
A snatcher of kites and a gobbler of string,
A strong arm to hold up a black tire swing,
A shaggy-maned lion when storms blow this way,
Or a cool parasol on a warm summer’s day,
And, yes, a safe haven for wing-weary birds,
Where leaves play wind-music without any words.
But the best thing I see when I look at a tree
Is a gift the Creator has given to me.