Out in the field you stand,
Tall. Serene, Strong and wise.
You have witnessed more change
Than we could hope to remember.

You were one of many seeds.
One of the lucky ones.
Destine for a long unfortunate existence,
You sprouted, and shot upwards.

When you were young, the field
It was cleared.
You were alone.

You saw the machines roll in,
So that the cars could drive by you.
You saw the fields planted again,
Now with golden wheat.

You saw the silo stretch tall, near you,
And you saw the house at your feet.
Beyond it the cattle grazed.
A pair of roosters greeted the day.

When you were full, the land,
It felt empty.
You were alone.

You became a place for meetings.
Children played at your roots.
You provided shade in the clearing,
The perfect place to take a snooze.

You held messages for lovers:
“Brad + Kate for life”
You served them all so kindly,
And you received so little thanks.

When you were old, the farm
It had been forgotten.
You were alone.

Still, you stand tall.
After all you hold onto those stories,
Never forgetting. Never sharing.
A library of memories

One evening you spot a car
On the road, dusty from disuse.
You wonder who it could be
How will they change my world?

I stepped out of the car,
A wandered towards the Oak.
I lay a hand on its trunk
I pondered the stories it could tell.
It kept its secrets.

Who could be a better friend?
Than the one you can always trust
Rain or shine, snow or sleet
He will always listen and always remember.