Older, barer, thick and still strong
is that tree which shaded my youth.
Prickly and knotted with a rough,
gnarly bark, it was always there,
if sometimes only tiredly. Rooted
in prayer and gifted with the fruit
of its many silent blessings, it is I now
who have grown and grown to miss it
although I know it stands there still—
all hard and solid, its crown assured,
the weight of its many years bowing it
to the ground, humble, as it awaits
the wood cutter’s ax, as do we all.
But in the winds that blow and swirl
and curl down through the years,
that tree will live long and live on
as long as there is me or mine
to remember it.
Yes. Older, barer,
thick and still strong is that tree
which shaded my youth, my father.
With great love and thanks to the family’s wonderful, loving, strong-as-a-tree father, Jack Etheridge!
Thank you for reading That tree. I sincerely hope you have enjoyed it and I humbly appreciate your visiting the Book of Pain. As always, I look forward to your comments.
© 2013 by John Etheridge; all rights reserved. This poem and accompanying notes are licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. This applies to all original work found on this site, unless noted otherwise. The attribution claimed under the license is: © 2013 by John Etheridge, https://bookofpain.wordpress.com.