The climbing ropes and spikes and saddle
No longer sit up on my shelves
My high boots, saws, and brace and bit
Now live with someone else

Yet while I dream of times so long - long past
I still feel December’s cutting wind
And the pellets of its icy rain
That soaked me to the skin

But God reminds me to recall
The lilacs sweet in bloom
The sight of swallows on the breeze
Our boys sleeping in their room

And that of all the trees so high
That I have climbed before
None were as high as that lone tree
Where Christ gave all for me
For all God had in store


Confessions of a Tree Climber
Peter Caligiuri
Copyright © 2026 all rights reserved