The old lightning tree
I went to see the old burnt out lightning tree.
To see what wisdom and guidance it had for me.
.
I've been drawn here, since I was so young.
Mighty oak tree, on the hill, so tall, so strong.
Many times spent here in play and laughter.
Many times spent here in silence, at times of disaster.
Struck by lightning and trunk split in two.
Damaged by humans, but still it grew.
Old and worn, it never shudders, it never shakes.
Never speaks, never judges, never does it forsake.
It listens to my moaning, it listens to my woes.
I tell it of an uneasy feeling, that runs from my ageing fingers, to my weary toes.
I ask for it's knowledge, I ask for it's advice.
I'm given reassuring grounding, I'm given a connection back to life.
It's comforting entwining branches offering a safe embrace.
Away from the constant running of the human rat race.
Like a child again, I sit up in it's perfectly green leaved shaped crown.
Now feeling empowered as it takes away my old worn facial frown.
Written Aug 2025
Copyright © Stephen Mayne | Year Posted 2025
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