THIS OLD TREE
© Dee Lee
This old tree, standing here for more than two centuries.
Wonder what you’d say if you could talk to me,
About what it’s like to be this old tree.
Shadow and shade, kids down the block are selling lemonade.
Send them down a cool breeze in sweet cascade,
Tailor made by this old tree.
Back in 1800 you were just a seed, reaching for the sky.
Waiting for a chance to take your place in the warm sunshine.
Here I go, high above the place were the humans grow.
Leave my troubles on the ground far below,
So I can get to know this old tree.
Autumn wind will bring release, summer sparkle in your leaves.
Winter calls for you to sleep, Spring returns in green.
Above the town, ships on the water spy your royal crown.
Sentinel of green two points off starboard bow,
Homeward bound to this old tree.
In 1800 you felt the thunder roll lighting split the sky high.
Though the fire raged in the little town below you managed to survive,
With this scar upon your side.
This old tree, reach out and touch a living history.
Beneath my hands an ancient mystery,
How small I am by this old tree.