Old Wise Oak Tree

Tree of life,
Rooted upon this hill.
How many have sought rest,
Under your long stretched arms?
How many have climbed high,
To peer at the horizon?
Or watch the sunrise, golden-warm,
While strengthened by your refuge?
How far reaching go your roots?
To what depth do they search?
Years pass,
Seemingly peaceful, constant...
Wild storms rage round,
And rivers burst over banks.
Old dead branches twist and rip away.
You bend...almost break.
Trees around you up root,
And are washed away,
But you have deep roots.
They hold on, even when the storm takes over.
Long, deadly, trying times,
But you remain.
You grow.
You tower on.
I lay still and peer up through winding branches,
Leaves blowing gently,
And rays of sunlight shifting.
I marvel.
At God's cleansing breath,
From his tree of life.

By: Amanda Mae Ruiz
4-20-13
Stillwaters Ranch