Categories: Nature
Old gnarled apple tree how you creak
How much you could tell if you could speak
Of young lovers sitting arms entwined
Children’s shouts and laughter as the swing rope unwinds
Of the sobs and tears of a young soldier’s wife
As her war-wounded husband fights for his life
There’s a grave by your roots where they buried the cat
And an old, worn bench on which Grandma sat
Where seeking shade in the heat of the day
She poured out her longings and you heard her pray
Babies in prams looking up to the sky
Their crying soothed by fluffy clouds floating by
Boys scrambling up to hide from their dad
When they’ve done something wrong & know they’ve been bad
A little girl making a daisy chain
Humming the same tune again and again
So very many have sought shade from the tree
Now, today I think its turn for me
To look up through the branches & leaves to the sky
To contemplate, consider, ask myself why
If a tree can grow old so gracefully
And still bear fruit so faithfully
Why can’t I growing old do as well
Then others will sit by me and tell
Their deepest secrets and want to share
Knowing I’ve time to listen & truly care
So in later years I pray I may be
Just like the old gnarled apple tree
Still bearing fruit, standing steady
Always approachable and ready
To listen.
