Gnarled Tree

As I sit under this gnarled old tree so treasured,

I wonder how many years so far it has measured.

Has it grown to this size just in time for me?

Or did my ancestors once sit here under this tree?

I watch as a bird, lands on its limb,

Singing a song that sounds like a hymn.

I feel the gentle breeze, I breathe in the fresh air,

and wonder if trees in heaven will be quite as fair.

Glenn Bergen