The Dying Tree

There’s a dying Tree on a distant hill,
An old and twisted Oak.
Do you see me?
It says as I drive by

I see you
I say to the Tree
Do you see me?
It says once again

And I see
It’s dying. It’s alone.
For all the other trees are far away on other hills
And no people have come to visit and learn.

see you.
I witness your passing
And am grateful for your wisdom,
For that which you’ve shared with the other trees
And with me.

A Raven soars,
Circles overhead
Also witnessing
And waiting.

see you, Tree.
I thank you
And will remember you.
Good bye.
Good bye.

Julie Gant (c) 2018

3 thoughts on “The Dying Tree

Comments are closed.