Conversion and Conviction
The tall gray man with the thoughtful face
And his frail gray wife came to the place
Where the oldest and greatest living tree
Stood in its earth-god majesty,
A monolith recording time
In tree-rings sounding their silent chime.
Three thousand years had marked their score
With more than half-a-millennium more
Since a small seed fell to the waiting earth
And stirred in the miracle of birth.
Fire and lightning had left their mark
On the stricken limbs and the rust-red bark;
Raw new scars and scars annealed
That time and a living faith had healed.
Slowly the eyes of the tall gray man
Measured the height and the massive span
of the ancient tree in stark amaze;
Tears and wonder were in his gaze,
"Mary," he said, and his words were shod
With awe, "Now I believe in God."
Mary's eyes went swift around
Where gilia flowers strewed the ground
Like notes of pearl from a silent psalm.
She placed one bloom in the man's broad palm,
A jewel of beauty . . . gift of the clod,
"This makes me believe in God."
