There is an old oak, a towering tree.
What an inspiring sight to see.
The view is for free for all passing by.
No matter the person the tree grabs their eye.
Why do they look? What is the draw?
Some kind of force? A physical law?
Standing in awe they stare with respect.
Some even approach it to closely inspect.
Reflecting its life could bring you to tears…
The moments it’s weathered throughout all the years.
It shadows its peers. Its storybook’s full.
The ages it’s seen are something to mull.
When horses pulled carts, the oak was first growing.
Its muscles were built by wind that was blowing.
With no signs of slowing it steadily grew.
Branches outstretching kept reaching for blue.
Two hundred years later this icon won’t stray.
It’s still in the same spot it was every day.
As long as it stays it always will be
A marvelous symbol, a towering tree.
To be cont’d…