The Old Tree

An old tree on the side of the road,

Watching, listening to those sitting beneath.

The hope is lingering. Will this pass, or stay? 

For good it will change, the old tree says.

Seen many such skies, he whispers,

The leaves fall as I unfurl,

Withered yet will bask again with might,

On brighter days and shining nights.

Hope will sing with clouds around,

Hold your mast that the brave gets a chance,

Learn from me, says the tree,

This is life, where nothing comes free.

I listened to the old tree as he smiled.

A gentle breeze touched my face,

A story to be told, lore to be sung,

Start walking & those who left will come along.

After many years, when you pass by O' wise,

Find me and sit for a while, 

Share your story, will listen even you whine,

You will find peace within and I’ll get mine.