I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–I adore treehouses. I want one…period. When Jesus promised “I go to prepare a place for you”, I’m hoping mine’s way, way up in the branches with the birds. So when my daughter and family sent me a book of treehouses, it only reminds and rekindles a longtime love.
Now, having said that, I found a poem embedded in said gift. But first, allow me to set the stage with a few quotes from, what else? The Treehouse Book*:
“This writer’s place of work is deep in seclusion. Imagine a trip by canoe as the first part of the journey, through the woods to a stream; find the z-shaped plank bridge, then across a small island, to another wider stream crossed by a narrow, curving, single-planked bridge, and into the woods again to find the treehouse…Stewart says that his treehouse is snug at zero degrees or even 10 below. It is a marvel to be gently swayed by the north wind as it rushes through his supporting hemlocks.”
This is writer Stewart Tarry’s office, a far-cry from a city cubicle.
Here are five different haiku by Stewart Tarry–
sorry, no phone—
out here the chickadees sing
from thin branches
four thick hemlocks—
moon in the windows
across my ceiling—
beavers swimming home
across the floor—
first quarter moon
to hear a cat’s tongue
behind the woodstove
As always, click HERE for my non-poetical disclaimer, and thanks for visiting!
*Quoted from The Treehouse Book by Peter and Judy Nelson with David Larkin, Universe Publishing and David Larkin ©2000 New York