[Photo credit: Kevin Huang, Burlington, VT, YWP Photo Archive]
CONTEST! Create an ode to a tree in writing or visual art. Close your eyes and think of a tree. Yes, just one tree. Is it the tree that you planted for your mother’s birthday? Or the one you like to climb? Have you buried secrets among its roots? Or is it a tree that you only notice in the quieter moments, gently waving beyond your bedroom window, whose movements, again and again, have brought your eyes to the sky and your face to the sun...? With the tree as the main character, communicate your personal relationship with it – in poetry, prose, photography, painting, drawing, documentary film, rap, interpretive dance – whatever form inspires you. SEE CONTEST DETAILS HERE.
Branches that reach out to me like arms, Leaves that tickle my face like kisses So sturdy and tall How can I compare at all? Your immense beauty blows me away I could stare at you all day. The way the light flutters through your limbs, The way your shade pools on the ground. Your roots dig deep and your branches reach high. Being a tree seems like a dream The way the rain drops gleam on your smallest leaves. Your rings, they tell a story Your marks, they tell a story Your missing branches, they tell a story. Everything about you is like a book, So how can people pass by without a look? Some call me a hippy, For I stand here when it's nippy. But they would do the same if only they took a moment To linger To appreciate To know and To love You, your branches, your leaves, your beauty, and your light. Some say to stop and smell the roses,
One day a couple years ago, my brother climbed a cherry tree in my front yard and he jumped off face first and landed. I ran to get my dad but here is the weird part. My brother only had a bloody nose.The reason why this tree is so important is because my brother and I were getting along that day and we were bonding. We had never bonded together in our life before. I think we bonded because of this tree. Up until the present, my brother and I are usually still bonding. It still feels like we are young and that didn’t happen too long ago.We still go out to the tree and sit by it and bond, play games, and talk about when it happened.