Little Cedar

Lovely and stark as can be, you don't age as I can see.
In all seasons, summer, winter, and fall you just stand
there for all of us, as if for a reason.
Ten Thousand years' generations will come and go, you and
your powerful famous friends, although many cut down, will
be there standing still, adorned in God's pure white snow.
What is you name, it is just Little Cedar Tree? Maybe
Mr. Shade or Miss Beauty, Serene Green? Perhaps you could
be called Mrs. Oxyden producer, gas exchanger, or Ms. Noise
From where was your source? It was a bother, until I learned
from the Bible that we were created from the same heavenly
Father. Why God gave you as a gift to manking to help one
keep warm, breathe, and not to sneeze.
I love you Cedar Tree - wish I could be, but it wasn't meant
for people to be a tree.

by Hildred Fields Gunn

Other poems of HILDRED FIELDS GUNN (2)

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