The Wise Old Tree
 

by

Sarah Gallant
 

Within the forest, dark and deep,
rooted firmly in the clay and sand,
lives an immense gnarled wonder,
a ~Wise Old Tree~,
standing sleep, with voluminous trunk
and many bands therein
to tell of his years,
of all he has seen and heard.
With branch arms outstretched
to the sky,
"I am the voice for the rest," he cried
"So many don't consider us really alive;
but we hurt and we cry just like you inside.
We fear the storms of nature and life,
we rejoice and are reborn.
Come listen to the forests' tales
as do the winged birds soaring overhead.
Hear the magical wailing whistle of the wind
as it tousles my headdress,
see the dark, dense storm clouds sailing past;
Tune into the coyote's cry
Come sit underneath me ~~ feel my rootedness.
Draw from me ancient knowledge amidst
the whispers of the earth,
and the supreme wisdom of the skies,
I will tell you no lies,
For I am, and you are,
and we are worth . . .
and I am just what you see,
a ~Wise Old Tree~;
Take that comfort with you
when you have to go.
Carry my strength back with you to
the forest of cement, and lament no more!
Remember me in tiny
Spring leaf buds,
think of me in Autumn's brilliant hues,
and picture me with snow glistening
atop my arms, outstretched to you
when feeling cold and alone.
Envision me with face in full dress of green,
inside Summer's heat providing shelter
from what can be a merciless sun.
I will be one with you, I am nature's embrace;
I am all seasons, I am seasonless,
I am saving grace;
A fortress solid and strong,
who, like you, was indeed
once also a sapling,
before that a seed.

Copyright © 2000 - 2001
All Rights Reserved Sarah Gallant
 

This page last updated September 24, 2000