You rise upward against the blue velvet sky,

The ivory skin so smooth and pure,

Your branches so graceful, so loving, so sure,

Your peacefulness calms the eye.

Your branches, like arms, caress the soul,

Your leaves dry the hot, stormy tears,

The scent of your spirit chases our fears,

Your tenderness fills our life’s holes.

Oh Beauteous Birch, so loving and strong,

What do you make of this world?

What do your leaves say when they uncurl?

How do you explain what went wrong?

You watch as the land is painted with blood,

Your heart is heavy with sadness,

You see people killed in the massive madness,

The tears flow from you like a flood.

And yet how strong you remain!

As if the world were at peace,

And the fighting and killing had ceased,

And your buds were watered, not with tears, but with rain.

Wondrous Birch tree, you know about life,

You know what our Father has planned,

From the misty horizon to the green and gold land,

You share humanity’s glory and strife.