Tree – by Jane Hirshfield
It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.
Even in this
you will have to choose.
That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books—
Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.
(OK… so I know I’m not really supposed to give you the whole poem – but it’s so beautiful and so small and it cannot be broken into two tiny pieces. So, to make up for this, please go read more of Jane Hirshfield’s poetry over at Poetry Foundation).
(photo © Michael Jastremski for openphoto.net CC:Attribution-ShareAlike)