Lord, this old Tree has become verily lonesome for Thee
Weighted limbs bow so low; some broken apart and set free.
Roots with long wind stretch deep into your Earth.
They linger, still mingle with beloveds in mirth.
In the transfer of time, wind, lightning and storms crime,
All was given, stripped bare in living yet with inhale divine.
Its’ leaves seeks return each ripened new year,
To spread your Green bounty in a thousand joy tears.
Seen are the cracks, the hopeless might, yet Lord this is Yours
Regardless of plight. Fate sealed with Love Graced, Known and Poured.
Now this old Tree weeps to Heaven and gleans a green canopy
Wide, outstretched with Love of Your sweet Jubilee.
©2012 Linda Willows