The Old Tree

There is a lovely ancient tree
leaning right in front of me
her gnarled form so humanly
with two limbs lifted prayerfully

I can see from the cracks in her bark
she has surely been through the dark
now wounded she bears the mark
of the One who placed her in this park

I could learn from this old tree
standing split, yet sturdily
for the sun shines down and she
by grace sprouts brand new leaves