= The Tree = For my father, on his birthday.

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    = The Tree = For my father, on his birthday.

    The Tree

    December 30, 1931
    An early thaw fools a seedling
    Into showing its head above ground
    The newborn embraces and basks in
    The warmth of the winter sun
    Not knowing of the harshness to come
    The tender shoot unfurls its leaves
    Blind, helpless, but full of promise
    Of the strong tree it could someday become
    Rich loam in which it was planted,
    Sown tenderly and with love
    The farmer who planted it
    Watched over it from above, sheltering it
    From the hard reality and storms
    Rough was that winter remaining
    But with the love and a father’s joy
    The farmer watched over the seedling
    As tenderly as watching his own boy
    That first year of life was a struggle
    The seedling, nearly lost, survived
    Through that first year the seedling grew
    Surprising all,, it made it to
    December 30, 1932,
    One ring it earned, that tender trunk
    The fight to survive continued
    Each season which passed
    The farmer watched over
    His young sapling of muscle and sinew.
    Through drought and years of terrible storms
    The young sapling continued to grow
    Each year adding a ring to its trunk
    Through summer’s heat and winter’s snow
    The young tree went through privation and drought
    The farmer, in grief decided
    No longer could he watch over the tree
    Transplanting it from where it resided
    The soil, now poor, could no longer sustain
    The young tree in its struggle to live
    The farmer covered the roots and bole of the tree
    And gave to his sister its keeping
    Driving away that long ago day
    The farmer wept, "I gave all I could give"
    The young tree in shock
    From being uprooted
    From the only home it had ever known
    Decided it wanted to live,
    But it withered and wilted, and nearly died
    After all of the time it had grown
    The farmer’s sister gave great care to the tree
    Knowing the love it engendered
    The years the farmer had cared for it
    From the time his seed was sown.
    The tree flourished and grew
    Its branches spreading
    Each season adding anew
    A ring of life around its core
    And its bark thickening, protected it too.
    Years passed, and the tree matured
    Growing straight and tall
    Good years and bad, they came and went
    The tree survived them all.
    Over time the tree then gave shade to me
    And I grew up under its branches
    Sheltered and shaded, it was a part of my life
    I would look up to it as a child in wonder
    At all the years it had stood,
    And withstood the elements
    It gave me a sense of being
    A place I could go to escape
    From everyday worry and strife
    The bark, now roughened through years of growth
    Yet felt wonderful beneath my fingers
    What character, I thought, "How unique this tree!"
    Whose spreading branches and
    Green-gold leaves gave shelter to me.
    The years continued, and the tree did too
    Adding a ring for each year passed.
    The bark, rugged now, showed scars and gaps
    How long would my tree last?

    December 30, 2007
    The tree yet continues to grow
    Sheltering me and my own children now
    Through summer’s heat and winter’s snow.
    The trunk, now thick, has weathered the years
    And survived when all thought it was lost
    That tree, it seemed, would be there for me,
    No matter the personal cost.
    One day this tree will no longer be
    Sharing the shade of its branches
    A part of my life, the years will then be
    Less, because of the strength of that tree.
    Happy Birthday, Dad!

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    Walt Whitman, American Poet (1819-1892)

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