Poem: The Old Tree, Fr. John Predmore, S.J.

You have observed much more than I. I run about and engage and you stay rooted in one place where you grow wisdom. Many come to sit in your shade and to peel a piece of bark. Some write the names of their beloved upon you because you will outlast us and we want our love to endure. You seem to stay the same because we cannot measure your growth. It is as if your are resting because you don’t make yourself known but your silence and stillness teach us wisdom 

We need each other. You sustain my life by giving me oxygen. Precious air. I help you as I exhale 

I feel lucky and safe when I climb and sit on your limbs. It is as if I hold our secret. I could fall asleep here but I would rather spend the time looking out at your world, to see the river swoosh by, to see the birds feast and the fish jump, and the snakes warm themselves along the fertile banks

You stand proudly as younger more nimble trees reach towards the sun hoping the bigger trees part their ways to allow for their growth. 

During the day, others come to fish or to drop their shoeless feet into the water  you admire. You are glad to accompany them because you know they need solace and harmony. How many have come to you to sit beside you. What have you seen? What have you heard?

At night, the fox and coyote pass. The rabbits dart around and the mice scurry. The owl takes watch with you night after night. Soon they are gone and you remain 

Tell me your secrets. I have neglected to listen and I see my folly. Let me sit with you and sigh. You understand time. You understand happiness. Tell me please what you have learned