The Old Pine Tree

Oh ancient pine, with arms so wide, You shelter secrets from the tide, Your gnarled bark tells tales of time, A witness to both loss and climb.

Your roots run deep in earth’s embrace, A sturdy heart, you hold your place, With needles whispering tales of grace, In every storm, you’ll find your face.

As seasons change, your strength will stand, Through winter’s chill and summer’s hand, For every life that you have seen, You are the keeper of the green.

• John Muir