Wow, it has been a while since I last posted! I have had the following poem on my mind of late. It keeps popping up at the strangest times. For me when a poem does that, there is something that I need to learn from it. That was certainly the case here.
Are you struggling through trials that you never wanted, and don't feel that you deserve? Do you find yourself looking up at the stars/ceiling and asking the oldest question of all time (why)? I do. No poem can answer all your questions or quiet all your fears, but this one was a good start for me.
Good Timber
The tree that never had to fight
For sun and sky and air and light,
But stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man
But lived and died as he began. Good timber does not grow with ease:
The stronger wind, the stronger trees;
The further sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength.
By sun and cold, by rain and snow,
In trees and men good timbers grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth,
We find the patriarchs of both.
And they hold counsel with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and much of strife.
This is the common law of life.
~Douglas Malloch
