Nature Speaks

Though I am an ancient tree Standing alone in the glen, A precious writing desk I'd be To feel fine words of thinking men. I'd feel the press of pointed pen That would express the best of men Whose thoughts were firm for liberty. I stand; I wait; oh axe, swing free! Though I am an ancient deposit of oil Lying in peace far under the sea, I yearn for a man's remarkable toil--- His determination to set me free To be his servant fueling cars, And lifting him---and lifting me!---to Mars! Though I am a pure and pristine planet, The stride of man---I do not ban it; For purity's but a hollow name That fears the bold of human fame. So come, O Man, dig deep and full; Discover me a useful tool!