A Sycamore Reborn

I was walking alone in the countryside;
nothing but grasses and trees, found;
no one to speak to me; only my pride;
tho lives were present, all around.

Everything was green, from a summer season;
with barns, the color of mellowed wine;
some barely standing; God knows the reason;
perhaps through the influence of time.

The leaves in the trees, danced with the breeze;
shaking many loose from their stem;
it suddenly struck me, life was gaining release;
their season had come to an end.

My eyes took in sweet visions of life;
wherever I chose to gaze;
reminding me of the loss of my wife;
how life never ceases to amaze.

Everywhere; there was life all around;
as far as the eye could see;
life creates beauty, and love is found;
at the base of a Sycamore tree.

We planted that tree; just a mere twig;
at the far end of our backyard;
so small, that we barely had to dig;
by a neighbor’s child, it was marred.

We replanted that stick; it seemed a waste;
a fruitless labor by a husband and wife.
The Master blessed it with love’s grace;
and gave that dead Sycamore new life.

A husband and wife planted life together;
with faith in the Master, and Lord of All;
life, in new form, will live on, forever;
that Sycamore is now eighty feet tall.

Monty 2/21/22. # 985