Reading Joyce Kilmer

I was deeply moved by Trees, one of the poems by Joyce Kilmer (December 6, 1886 – July 30, 1918). Criticized as being too sentimental and simple, it has nonetheless withstood the test of time, since its first publication in 1913. It demonstrates how beautiful the natural world is, and its close connection with us.

Unfamiliar with many poets of WWI, I made my unexpected acquaintance with Trees through  W. - The Killer of Flanders Fields, a 2014 Skyline Entertainment production. Despite its gruesome murder scenes, and unfortunate victims, the poem shines through the layers of ugliness, to give both characters and audience, courage, hope, and simplicity in pursuing the real truth to the very end. Just listen:

Trees

By Joyce Kilmer

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.