Free online greeting card maker or poetry art generator. Create free custom printable greeting cards or art from photos and text online. Use PoetrySoup's free online software to make greeting cards from poems, quotes, or your own words. Generate memes, cards, or poetry art for any occasion; weddings, anniversaries, holidays, etc (See examples here). Make a card to show your loved one how special they are to you. Once you make a card, you can email it, download it, or share it with others on your favorite social network site like Facebook. Also, you can create shareable and downloadable cards from poetry on PoetrySoup. Use our poetry search engine to find the perfect poem, and then click the camera icon to create the card or art.
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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Before the cedar learn'd the speech of steel, Or heartwood yielded to the carpenter, Its argent rings kept covenant with the weal Of thawing springs and every pilgrim star. No bough begrudged the tempest what it took; Each wound became another living book. Then came the hands that quarried trunk from loam. One sought a boundary where lambs might rest; One sought a crossing, calling strangers home Across the torrent's vehement unrest. The timber neither gloried nor complain'd: It served the purpose into which 'twas grain'd. Long years I honour'd bridges for their grace, And deem'd all fences born of timid fear, Till autumn, in a lichen-haunted place, Unveil'd a quieter arithmetic there. An ancient rail, half-vestured now in moss, Kept not one flower, yet shelter'd all from loss. Beyond the hill a broken arch was thrown, Its patient span relinquish'd to the stream. The river mourn'd no less, yet journey'd on; It would not counterfeit a perish'd dream. Some crossings, once unfaithful to their end, Grow holier by refusing to pretend. Then first I saw the oak had held no will To part the meadow or unite the plain. No fibre cherish'd malice, good, or ill; No grain distinguish'd blessing, loss, or gain. The tree gave only what its nature could; The hand alone interpreted the wood. I search'd my heart and found, with inward shame, How many fences I had call'd a scar, Though they preserv'd what tenderness became; How many bridges bore me from my star. For every road I should have left untrod Had ask'd my feet to wander out of God. There are estrangements mercy ought to heal— Proud silences no sunrise should forgive. There are departures only fire can seal, Lest dying falsehood counterfeit the live. Discernment is the rarer, sterner art: To know which timber waits within the heart. So now I bless neither the flame nor nail, Nor praise the wall, nor crown the spanning frame; I ask but this when love and judgement fail: What keeps another soul more true to flame? For wood remembers only how to give. It is the hand that teaches it whether to divide— or let another live.
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