Grandfather Tree

Grandfather Tree,

through the centuries

you have weathered storms,

arms out, the girth of your trunk,

your tenacious roots,

holding you steady

against the winter winds.

On your crown, you sport

four spires.

It would take six people,

holding hands,

to circle your massive trunk.

I place my hand upon you,

and listen.

Your message is: Endurance.

Ancient cultures

once thrived

 near where you stand.

You watched them live,

then die.

Their descendants saved you

from the saw.

May you watch 

new generations grow.

May your inner core

hold steady.

May small birds 

bless you with song.

May the sweetness

please your ears.

I bow

to your rich history,

your gift of air,

the protection of your 

welcoming branches.

My eyes take you in

like a blessing.

You are my only

cathedral.

I hear your heartbeat.

You speak

the language of the Old Ones,

talking Tree story,

speaking Truth.

May we listen well.

for Sumana's prompt at Midweek Motif: to write a tribute poem.