Trees of Justice

A man once said, "And the trees of the fields shall clap their hands." What on earth does that mean? Trees don't have hands.

But then, maybe if you think of branches as arms, and the leaves as hands, and if you've ever stood beneath a sycamore branch while the wind blows its leaves, it does somehow seem like hands clapping. And then if you step back into that wind to look at the whole tree it becomes like an excited crowd of people. And if you step back further to get a view of the whole field of trees it could–in a certain visionary way–mimic a huge stadium audience, cheering something quite brilliant and arresting. So, maybe as you're standing there feeling tiny, there is an impression growing that the trees of the fields do indeed have hands to clap and they sense something to cheer that we just guess at for now. Let yourself be enchanted by this.

I can't tell you how much I love trees - these fantastic, giant poems to strength, resilience and longevity. The roots of a tree grow as deep as the branches are high, an important reminder that as deep as a person's suffering is, so is their capacity to love.

Trees of justice, oaks of righteousness - excellent encouragers.


{Today's soundtrack: wind in the leaves}