Good Timber
Douglas Malloch, Quoted in Resource, Sept./Oct., 1992, p. 7
The tree that never had to fight The man who never had to toil Good timber does not grow in ease; Where thickest stands the forest growthFor sun and sky and air and light,
That stood out in the open plain
And always got its share of rain,
Never became a forest king
But lived and died a scrubby thing.
To heaven from the common soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air,
Never became a manly man,
But lived and died as he began.
The stronger wind, the tougher trees;
The farther sky, the greater length;
The more the storm, the more the strength;
By sun and cold, by rain and snows,
In tree or man, good timber grows.
We find the patriarchs of them both;
And they hold converse with the stars
Whose broken branches show the scars
Of many winds and of much strife &md;
