the tree
"i think that i shall never see a poem lovely as a tree. a tree whose hungry mouth is prest against the earth's sweet 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 the rain. Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree." (Joyce Kilmer, 1913)