A Poem

A poem is but some gathered lines,
T'is but a prayer that's upward sent.
It is a growth of climbing vines,
A sweet tone of entanglement.

It is a flood of chosen words,
Lifting from the mind.
A sanctuary loved by birds,
On paths of love entwined.

It is the vision of a brook,
Running round the bend.
The inward depths within a look,
That reaches to a friend.

T'is but wisteria on a ledge,
The gliding of a swan.
Pine-trees leaning on the edge,
Of chasms glistening in the dawn.

A poem...is like full clouds above,
Refreshment unto earthly sod.
The soaring, white-wings of a dove,
That seeks the perfectness of God.

E.P. 1908 - 1989

Well, I was so excited to find this little juniper berry blossom. I thought it was very cool. This was the only one I saw after looking in several juniper trees. Then I thought...hey, do juniper berries blossom?? No. So, searching online I discovered that this cool blossom is the junipers' way of protecting itself from an infestation of mites. It is the home of the larvae of a juniper tip midge. Ick. Such a pretty poem, let's just pretend it's a juniper berry blossom.