The Old Tree

old olive tree Jerusalem

Take a road

To the old

Olive tree.

In the city

Of God

It has seen

Two millennium of


And more.

It has borne

Many fruits

Born of peace

Lost to war.

It allowed countless branches

Be shaken

Come harvest.

Its gifts of

Ripe ovals

Olive branch,

Nourished life

Lighted shores

Hallowed faith, custom, lore.

Take a road

To the old

Tree of yore

Still within us.

In its gnarled trunk

A history

Written in

Well-bent rings

Wrought in

Famine and drought

Rain and flood

Hope and blood.

Take a road to

The old tree that still stands

In a sacred

Scarred city

Named for sighting a peace.

It awaits

Patient and life-lived-long hollowed

To awake

One true day

To a lasting glow

Of eternal Hello.

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