The Seedling
The other day, strolling along a rushing mountain stream,
Upon the carpeted forest floor I saw a golden beam.
It shown upon a blue spruce seedling only inches high.
I tarried to contemplate its future, resting upon a stone nearby.
Will you grow up to become a family's Christmas tree,
Brightly bedecked, with children dancing about with glee?
Or grow to towering height, reaching for the pristine sky,
Adorned with cones and spreading bough, pleasing to passersby?
Perhaps you'll be chosen as the Yule tree to grace the President's abode,
An honor upon which very few of your peers will e'er be bestowed,
Your peak topped with a star symbolizing peace o'er all the nation,
As joyous folks celebrate The King with great veneration!
Or in your welcoming arms will dainty birds find warmth to nest?
Will the majestic eagle linger to preen and take its rest?
You will be so magnificent when snows garnish your every bough,
As you tower, glistening, upon the frowning mountain brow!
Someone in a stroke of wisdom issued a momentous decree,
When they designated you as Colorado's official tree!
As time unfolds, many fierce storms you will surely endure.
I pray God will protect you, little one, as you continue to mature!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
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