Towering gum trees now are gathered around me while I lie within their midst.
They seem to me to be like ancient elders, and we commune as such as they peer down into my world, and I up to theirs.
“You have misspoken, Young Poet,” they whisper to me now, “For hath thou forgotten that we are masters of the heights as well as the depths, and that our roots now cradle thee from below while our branches cover thee from above?”
Such is the wisdom of the trees, for they teach me to be firmly planted below while I reach into the eternal heavens above.
The sacred music of the songbirds carries through the forest, and their tune enters my heart, much to my delight.
What have I to learn from thee, oh, caretakers of the heavens?
“Tend to the Garden, Young Poet, and sing the song of eternity, even as we do.”
Such is the wisdom of the songbirds, for they teach me to hear, and to sing, and to tend to the Garden.
Rain falls through the forest, creating a rhythm on the leaves. A nearby creek flows well, and I hear the water travelling around the rocks. The air is fragrant, and the forest is thick.
Small yellow wildflowers now blossom throughout the hills, and new growth gathers throughout the forest floor.
And I ask myself, “Does God not dwell in this scene? Is He not bound by Nature to inhabit this place? Am I not standing in his midst?”
Such is the wisdom of the forest, for it brings us closer to God, and it places us among His most sacred teachers.