They stand straight and tall,
arms outstretched and reaching
into the heavens, to God,
their silent voices praising their Creator.
They never more except when the wind
blows and they respond to the rhythm
of the wind. No matter how life has bent
them, they stretch toward heaven,
their praises shouting in silent voices,
heard only by those who listen.
They fulfill their mission, assigned
by their Creator: refuge for the birds,
shade from the heat, life of oxygen
from their leaves. In winter and spring,
they show that life comes from death, and
even when their lives have been cut short
and they exist only as a stump,
new life forces its way from the soil
into life. Death proceeds life, for a seed has to fall into the ground
and die before it will truly live.
Season after season, through death to life,
they serve their creator, drawing life from
the water in the ground and returning their silent praise.