Monday, April 15, 2013
The paintings for Blue Monday, are not always blue in color, some are blue in mood or texture,
This little painting of a burned tree in the marshes made me sad, but too it reminded me of this poem.
Trees and Men
The tree that didn't have to fight,
for sun and sky and air and light,
But lived out on the open plain,
and always got its' share of rain,
Never became a forest king,
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
The man who never tasted spoil,
The man who never had to toil,
That never had to win his share
of sun and sky and light and air.
Never became a manly man.
But lived and died where he began.
Good timber does not grow with ease.
The stronger the winds the tougher the trees.
The further the sky, the greater the length,
The more the storms, the more the strength.
By sun and cold and rain and snow.,
In tree or man good timbers grow,
Where the thickest stands the forest growth
We find the patriarchs of both.
Who hold and converse with the stairs,
Whose broken branches show many scars,
of many winds and much of strife,
This is the common law of life,