Against gray February skies
Note: The following poem was written by Sister Mary Catherine Keene in 1975
Bare trees rise
Pushing up from somewhere
Deep within the earth
Witnesses to death and life
To dormancy and birth
How bound we are to them!
Yes, do we know
How woven in one cloth we stand—
Those trees and we
Forming some life-bond
Mysteriously
Some voice from Genesis describes
The Knowledge Tree
Psalmist lean upon the cedar trees of Lebanon
Christ found Zacchaeus sitting in a sycamore
And too, He cursed the barren fig
Yet He said: I am the vine
You are the branches…
He died upon a tree
Much like the trees He wept beneath
In Gethsemane.
And we?
We rest ourselves in shady spots
Which trees provide
(All sorts of creatures come to them
And secret things inside!)
From trees we draw wood for fire and homes
We make machines for travel, convenience
And for war…
Some folk shape the wood for beauty’s sake
Others hollow out and happily make
An instrument to throb or sing
To answer still another need
Human spirits bring
Against gray February skies
Bare trees rise
Pushing up from somewhere
Deep within the earth
Witnesses to death and life
To dormancy and birth
How bound we are to them
How woven in one cloth
Those trees and we
Forming some life-bond
Mysteriously.