These trees have been my friends for years. Seeing them broken was difficult for me. I look for signs of hope and peace in the Creation around me, one day at a time, where life is adapting.
STILL
Within the limbs of the locust,
the spire of the pine lies broken.
Yet, the pine tree, after the storm,
still rooted, still standing,
for now, will remain—
a gentle breeze, from time to time,
will visit, will whisper through its branches,
and birds will find a place to sing.
—M.L. Folkedahl-meehleder, friend of Prairiewoods