A poem about a tree and me, written at the end of a retreat in the woods By Father Stefan

How is a person like a tree?

In a tree I see me

A tree hides it years inside

I hide my years inside

In the circles of my heart and soul

Each day a tree grows

I was born in the month of May

If you were to watch a tree grow

You would grow impatient I know

Nothing seems to happen day by day

But if you came back after many Mays

In the sap there is a map

The sap becomes a sapling

The map become a maple

The seed is in the womb of the Earth

But before it gives birth

It first must rest in the tomb of the Earth

Unless the seed dies it remains but a seed

But if it dies it bring forth much fruit

The tree that looks so small

Will soon produce many leaves in the fall

There is something magic about a tree

In a tree I see me

A tree’s feet are in the earth

Like me from my birth

Day by day

Each May

A tree stretches a bit each day

It fingers towards the sky

While I sit impatient day by day

Wondering if I have changed since last May

There is growth slow and sure

When I see a tree I see me

Fr Stefan


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