Good Timber
for sun and sky and air and light
but 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.
The man who never had to toil
To gain and farm his patch of soil,
Who never had to win his share
Of sun and sky and light and air
ever became and died as he began
Good timbe does not grow with ease,
The stronger wind,the stronger trees,
The further sky,the greater length,
The more the strom,the more the strength.
By sun and cold,by rain and snow
In tree and men good timber grow.
Where thickest lies the forest growth
we find the patriarchs of both.
and they hold counsel with stars
whose broken brancges show the scars
of many wind and much of strife
This is the common law of life
by Douglas Malloch
