I feel the age
of my weathered bark
shadows and moss fill the wrinkles of time
Standing on the precipice
of night and day
watching the heavens

Rooted firmly
in the forest of memories
created by seedlings reaching for light
Uncurling leaves
opening with hope
catching dew drops

Once stretching my limbs
evergreen everlasting
new life on the edge of boundaries ignored
Infinite vistas
vernal joy
tempting fate

But now I stand back
and lean into the weald
eroded footholds diminish my grasp
Wisdom respected
refuge of knowledge
branches of strength

Encouraging growth
of youthful fortuity
new life ascending aged paths
Weaving trails
trees once old
now forests new.