The Pines
At the bottom of my yard are three pines
of varying statures, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost.
I stare at them as breezes caress my cheeks,
birds sing of hope as I remember lost loved ones.
First my father, brother, mother, brother, husband
and sister, each new grief compounded by the previous.
The three pines instill hope that they are at peace
and united again looking down with love.
7 thoughts on "The Pines"
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Love the personification (or deification, I suppose) of the trees. Nature brings us close to God.
Yes, it does!
Grief, hope and peace. Beautiful poem.
Naming the trees as you did is awesome!
Keep naming those trees…great comfort here.
Very comforting poem, really lovely and heartfelt.
Thanks for the kind words.