It pleases me to see,

snow on the bark

of that old tree,

and the way it clings there,

half-thawed and refrozen

to a semi-permanent structure,

and even the way

the fat, red squirrels

and our orange-striped cats,

superb climbers,

can slip a little

trying to navigate up

the lately slippery trunk.

The tree has lived its purpose

as it passes into the massive presence

of renowned old age,

where even children seek retreat

in warmer times,

but renowned only because

it endured.

It’s a common enough tree,

although some would call it

as beautiful as

any national monument.

Its leaves have sprouted out in spring,

and fallen in the fall,

and it’s reliably pollinated

fellow trees,

for at least 100 years.

One hundred years—

It’s much older than me,

and I like to think it offers

the sage advice of the elderly,

that though the snow

of white hair and beard

may cover the peel of my skin,

I’m still required to endure,

and let others climb

to the top of my mind

for what comfort and beauties

my spare branches offer.

Old tree, I think and hope

you may be

a lot like me,

and I feel in our hearts,

that you may be,

cut off to stumps

many times

before we really started to grow.

Our shortcomings and discomforts

have been many,

but one thing is for sure,

we’re both still here

because our instincts have been

to endure, endure, and endure.

How many times, old tree,

can I say to those

who are disheartened and distressed,

that one big part

of the lesson of life

is to endure, endure, and endure,

never give up,

never cave in,

endure, endure, and endure.  

 Copyright 2010, Jerry W. Engler