WAIT! It’s Not What You Think!
This favorite portrait of me, taken by my daughter, Molly, caught me in the act of true, holy communion with the Great Sycamore of Samuel Morse at his home in Poughkeepsie. i often visit this “Big Friendly Giant,” who always has the same advice for all who lean close and listen, “Slow down. Be patient.”
My lifetime love-affair with St. Francis of Assisi started in the trees. A childhood pal, Tommy Smith, was next door neighbor to a friary, and their yard had trees-to-die-for!! Trees you could live in! The trees carried me into his WONDER-full world! To Francis, and so to me, they were brothers and sisters – a whole giant family. The beloved saint introduced me to this Holy Communion.
To this day many of “my favorite Franciscans” are trees – with great wisdom built in by so many years of slow, patient, silent growth. What more important message could they bring than that?
There’s a small tree in my town, that is off on some insignificant side street. i suppose that i am only one of a handful who has ever stopped to chat…but SUCH WISDOM awaits!!! Can you imagine? Over many many years it has grown one with a fence. i call it “the fence tree,” and it simply says, “Look at what can be, if we grow slowly together! And learn to shift to each other’s needs and personhood…”
When i walk into the greater woods, the lesson is magnified, as GInormous trees and boulders BEND…BEFRIEND…make room for each other…hold one another up
and show just how beautifully apparent enemies can live together in harmony. i swear ive heard rocks whisper, “Here, tree, sit and rest on me.” THERE IS SPACE ENOUGH FOR EVERYONE TO BE COMFORTABLE! How well the trees and boulders get along.
In the Cathedral of Saint Francis – i.e. Nature – no wonder these are the Great High Priests! And theirs is a most holy, and yet most COMMON chant: Go slowly…move gracefully…and never doubt that EVERYTHING is POSSIBLE with GOD!
MercySoup.com 
Now, Mr. Mike, that’s a poem. Glad thanks from Jim and Carol and all of the trees in the Midwest.
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I think that I shall never see
A poem lovely as a tree.
A tree whose hungry mouth is prest
Against the earth’s sweet flowing breast;
A tree that looks at God all day,
And lifts her leafy arms to pray;
A tree that may in Summer wear
A nest of robins in her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow has lain;
Who intimately lives with rain.
Poems are made by fools like me,
But only God can make a tree.
(always good to recall the majesty of Joyce!)
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Beautiful! I especially like the last picture of Mikey hugging the tree. Very moving
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thanks, Tony! Wish i could be giving YOU a great big HUG!
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