The Old Oak Trees

As I wander about solemnly
Pondering my life, then tears
My eyes grace the old oak trees
A strength through the years.

They grew to be a part of me
And when the wind would blow
The old oaks strong and stately
I believed they would never go.

Now I see this barren land
As nature has taken its toll
My precious oaks have fallen
Their loss has touched my soul.

What is it Lord that hurts so?
Maybe it's the change I abhor
So settled, possibly even passive
I had simply closed the door.

The shock was overwhelming
My trees are here no more
What message do You bring me?
God, what am I here for?

Are You tired of my questions?
Once more I am on my knees
My prayers seem so endless
It's not all about the trees.

Those old trees, I loved them
They gave me a quiet peace
A gift from You long ago
Your love can never cease.

I am thinking of some flowers
Flowers that will kiss the sun
A new adventure awaits me
As I plant them one by one.

Book by Kathleen Higham

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