The old gnarled tree
12.28.05 (11:53 pm) [edit]The old gnarled tree
stood twisted,
its branches tired,
yet strong in its defiance
of the strong, beautiful,
young trees, surrounding it.
Suddenly this oldness,
and twisted-ness,
became something of beauty,
of character,
it scars a badge of honor,
for a long life with all it pain,
that only deepened its roots
making it stronger,
something that the younger trees
have yet to learn.
Youth and beauty are for a time;
other forms of beauty
come with age,
and the struggle,
that all sentient beings experience,
doing its transforming work;
just existing does that......
forms us
into another aspect
of truly being present to the world.