I came across this tree on the Appalchian Trail between Springer Mountain and Hawk Mountain. For some reason I felt the need to stop and take a picture of it. Even after leaving the trail, thoughts of the old tree stuck with me and inspired this poem.
I met an Elder today as I walked along the trail,
I lingered a while in his presence, hoping he would tell me a tale;
Just to the side he stood, silent, stoic and strong.
I hoped for a bit of wisdom before I had to move along.
Proud as an old Chief he stood, young tribal members all around,
Impatiently, I waited to be enlightened, but he uttered not a sound.
I could see the scars of battles past upon his ancient face,
Then I shouldered my pack and chided myself, for the time I did waste.
As I made to go and resume my journey, along the North bound path,
I paused and looked again at the Elder’s scar, created by natures wrath.
Amongst the sounds of wind and rustling leaves, I thought I heard someone speak.
I heard him quietly whisper, “Come closer. I have the knowledge that you seek.”
“Daily battles and challenges are a part of this life” I felt him say,
“But the score doesn’t really matter at the end of the day.
“It matters not that some battles you lose and some you win,
As long as you are still standing, proud and true, in the end”.
“Injuries from battles lost are temporary, they will heal with each passing season,
To morn the past or what could have been, is fruitless and without reason,
And with each scar and wrinkle that appears, a bit of wisdom is yours to gain.
For knowledge and wisdom is treasure earned, and is always worth the pain.
I thanked the Old One and turned to go, stumbling in my haste,
“Don’t be in such a hurry friend! We all are headed to the same place!
And as I walked away I heard him whisper once again in the wind,
“Because all living things end up as dust, and become part of each other in the end.”