My Friend


Standing naked before me
Gently waiving as if in greeting
Arms reaching toward the heavens
Soaring upward yet grounded are thee

Time has etched upon you that weathered look
Your great strength fortified by your silence
Words speak of you and thus are shallow
For your character radiates volumes to a book

Through spindly arms whispers the wind
Seemingly unaffected by those who pass you by
Yet something transcends deep to my soul
Your presence I must acknowledge
For in not doing I have sinned

From the moment of your birth it has been clear
Your sense of purpose is in your being
You have not moved so much as a step
Yet moved us all, those who care

Someday I will ask you
Just what it’s like to be so free
For now and always content to be
God’s true wonder, my friend, the tree

Note: Spelling, invented new words and other errors strictly intentional. Copywrite Eugene Veinotte all rights reserved

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