A Great Poem

Good Timber

-by Douglas Malloch

The tree that never had to fight

For sun and sky and air and light,

But stood out in 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 had to toil

To gain and farm his patch of soil,

Who never had to win his share

Of sun and sky and light and air,

Never became a manly man

But lived and died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease:

The stronger wind, the stronger trees;

The further sky, the greater length;

The more the storm, the more the strength.

By sun and cold, by rain and snow,

In trees and men good timbers grow.

Where thickest lies the forest growth,

We find the patriarchs of both.

And they hold counsel with the stars

Whose broken branches show the scars

Of many winds and much of strife.

This is the common law of life.

My friend gave this poem to me in the 80's. I have since given copies to some other friends. To me, this poem speaks of strength. People are strong and sometimes they don't recognize their strength until they have to be strong. I think of those people like a limb that bends in the wind. It might get blown pretty hard, maybe even touch the ground, but it doesn't break -- it's pretty resilient!