At The Park Poem by Cynthia Buhain-baello

At the park, there stands a tree,
Its twisted trunk marks well its years
With leaves still green, its branches proudly
Embrace the sky and drink its tears.

There was a time when it was young,
When birds would crown it with their nest,
Its leaves danced, swayed to a summer song
But now this tree would soon bend to rest.

For a time it gave such a verdant shade,
And lived for its noble purpose and reason
This tree has shown what from life could be made
In silence, giving us the hope to go on.

Cynthia Buhain-Baello~~~01.23.15
Photo: Japanese gardens