His Trees

His Dad, His Trees

The trees were free, a gift, you see. 

A humble birth put into earth.

His father’s gift, he gave these

so in our hands and on our knees, 

we dug the soil with tender care, 

while breathing in the springtime air. 

Two tiny trees, so young so lone, 

now stretch their roots in their new home. 

His dad, he checked on these young lives, 

sending prayers that they survive. 

Many years have come and gone, 

these babes have grown toward sky beyond. 

Majestic, tall and strong are they, 

dancing in this earth’s ballet. 

Life must  be just like these trees, 

swaying, bending in the breeze. 

His Dad has left us here alone,

his saplings stayed, with us homegrown

Thank you Don, these trees alive,

can give us strength to live and thrive.

Within our lives, so rooted here,

these trees, to you, our hearts endear.

By Elenka

* A couple of notes are needed here. Elenka wrote this poem to use for her BookArts project. The BOYS in the botton photo are saplings no more: Zack, Stephen, Adam and Justin. The tree in the picture was planted on an Easter Sunday around 1979. Dad got it as a gift at Maine Savings Bank. It now stretches 40+ feet tall.
*The poem speaks of the trees but the boys are there too, 'majestic, tall and strong'.
* Back photo: Moms and Dads still watching over their small 'trees'.