But we cannot invent a new primary color or anything else purely original.
That is what I like about this poem: Trees. Kilmer understands this sub-creation and does not rail against it. Instead Kilmer honors God with meager words to reflect on His greater glory.
by: Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918)
- THINK that I shall never see
- A poem 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.