I Am a Tree

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My life is a tree,

Yoke-fellow of the earth;

Pledged,By roots too deep for remembrance,

To stand hard against the storm,

To fill my Place.

(But high in the branches of my green tree there is a wild bird singing:

Wind-free are the wings of my bird: she hath built no mortal nest.)

© Karle Wilson Baker

 

Begin a list poem with the words, “My life is a tree…”
The poet speaks to the rootedness of life, but also to the “wind-free” wings of the bird. Do you feel yourself more as a rooted being or a wind-free being? What might be the gifts and challenges of each?
If you were a tree, what kind of tree would you be? Write a description of your “tree self.” What have you learned about yourself?

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