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Tuesday, January 8, 2008

Forest - A poem by Cantrell Dicky


Last night I dreamed about being in a forest,
surrounded by all kinds of trees, old ones, tall ones, young ones
the tall ones had age with deeper roots, nothing majestic,
just been around somewhat longer

In the shadow of these were some younger trees,
these had a good start with great promise of being like the older ones,
each developing according to the greatness of their Creator

Looking into the tops of the older trees you could see broken
limbs and branches from the storms they had endured
season upon season some older trees now in need of pruning,

Even though they were needy
they were distinguished with importance and honor among the younger trees
for together they are a forest.

Dicky Cantrell

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