For over ten years, my poem "A Tree" could be read along Meadow Lake near the visitor center at The Morton Arboretum in Lisle, Illinois. It was written when I worked in the herbarium there. The poem was later published in my book Kairos . Here's the poem. A tree is a treasure burst forth into the sky; a fissured relic covered in emeralds that change with the voice of equinox. A tree is a benevolent caretaker for the wild; a framework of weathered arms holding nests, refuge, and insect treats. A tree is a teacher of patience and endurance; a primeval soul bearing the fruit and labor of the illusion we call Time. A tree is our third parent of unconditional love; a haven of cool shade and wonderment beneath a sentry of leaves.