There was a big old tree in the front yard where I grew up. From as early as I can remember I climbed that tree and could spend hours up there just watching the happenings around me. From the stray cats to the kids out playing and the cars going by, I sat, unknown to anyone, observing our little piece of earth. A thousand stories played out in my head that are all now mostly forgotten. That tree, along with my buried pets, was the toughest thing to leave when my parents sold the place. I don’t know if it’s normal to miss a tree, but my dear friend, I do miss you.
Here is one of my earliest poems – as I was just getting started writing (so many years ago).
O’ Majestic Tree
With your arms held high, you come so close to reaching the sky. And with each season, you carry many colors in your embrace, as the grass below admires your grace. The wandering birds have a home in you, while your blanket of leaves catch the morning dew. And when I get lonely, I climb up your sturdy body, and you comfort me. How dear you are to my heart, O’ Majestic Tree.