How like an old tree you are:
Admired for strength, endurance--
Graceful and tall

At a glance.

Time it takes to look longer--
See the scars grown over smooth
See the abrupt places cut
For room and light
See the twists where gravity, wind, and weather

Touched you.

Time is where you've been
When birds flit 'round your head
When swing hung from an out-stretched arm
When mourning doves laid a fine nest
Secure from harm below

But not from winds above.

It is winter now--
No green to sound the wind
No birds to nest or play
No dappling on our faces

When gazing sunward.

But your roots go deep
Too deep to let the season stop you.
Rest now.
For in the green time
You will bloom again.