Horizon and Orison

282257_4347339793967_421152763_nphoto by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten

I return to the ground its original music.
It will rise out of the horizon
of the grass, and over the heads
of weeds, and it will rise over
the horizon of men’s heads.
As I age in the world it will rise and spread,
and be for this place horizon
and orison, the voice of its winds.
I have made myself a dream to dream
of its rising, that has gentled my nights.
Let me desire and wish well the life
these trees may live when I
no longer rise in the mornings
to be pleased with the green of them
shining, and their shadows on the ground,
and the sound of the wind in them.
~Wendell Berry from “Planting Trees”

A tree is a prayer that begins
like a small seed
falling from our lips,
tentative with need.

–a word of thanks
a moment of praise
a tear from grief
a plea for grace–

Unsure if it will land
on receptive soil
with sufficient light
or sprinkling
to quench its dryness.

An answered prayer, like a tree,
takes hold
roots burrowed deep
held fast
filling to fullness
to grow higher in
blooming profusion
that reaches the sky,
awaiting the wind’s touch.

Our prayer, like a tree,
planted on fertile soil,
will someday yield
its gifts and blessings
of fruit and shade,
to rise beyond the horizon
and reach past our last
Amen.

photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten
photo by Josh Scholten