I leave the message "A Tree Knows" open to your interpretation...

Each time I've attempted to explain my communion with Trees my words have become "lost." Recently I was sitting in silence with someone in the branches of a tree and I kept thinking the thoughts to tell a story of a profound spiritual experience I once had with a Redwood. All of these different partial sentences came to mind and the greater heart-purpose lay heavy upon me. I almost burst with the passion of what I longed to share. In the end, I couldn't bring myself to utter a word. I don't believe I've ever told anyone the message I received from that particular Tree I once spoke with...and don't know if I ever will, or I am meant to. I suppose it's inexpressible anyhow.

As I was kneeling below a Redwood Parent just last month a poem came to me in a flash. It was eloquent, it flowed, it rhymed, it had the spirit of the moment...then it became the only poem I have ever "lost," thus, was never meant to be shared. I wonder how it is that I seem unable to translate these momentous experiences to others. And I wonder if these were sacred moments meant only for me in that brief moment of time. I can only wonder if other people feel the way I do about the purity and truth of a Tree.

What I can share is a fraction of the view that inspired the "lost" poem:

And a poem that is on a Redwoods postcard I once bought:

          Trees

   I think I shall never see

   A poem as 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 rain.

Poems are made by fools like me,

But only God can make a tree.

                             Joyce Kilmer