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Beneath a barren tree, weathered and gray, Stands

Beneath a barren tree, weathered and gray, Stands an old man, his steps marked by a walking stick's sway, By the sea he lingers, memories etched in his eyes, A silent symphony of moments, where time slowly flies. With each gust of wind, the tree's branches creak and moan, Once adorned with life, now naked and alone, Like the old man, who stands with tales untold, A lifetime of experiences, weathered yet bold. The rhythmic waves crash upon the shore, Echoing the old man's journey, forevermore, He finds solace in the sea's relentless roar, A companion through joys and sorrows, forevermore. In the twilight's embrace, he reflects on days gone by, A life well-lived, filled with laughter and sigh, Underneath the tree, he finds a fleeting peace, Amidst the whispers of the wind, his worries cease. For in his presence, nature's beauty thrives, A testament to the resilience of lives, The old man, the tree, the sea entwined, A timeless tableau, a story enshrined. Though the tree stands bare, stripped of its past, And the old man's steps falter, weary and vast, Their spirits intertwine, a poignant embrace, As they stand united, anchored in grace. For the old man and the tree, an eternal bond they share, As they stand together, in stillness and in prayer, In their presence, we find wisdom and solace anew, A testament to life's cycles, old and true. ©Mary Rubya Whispers of Time: The Old Man, the Dried Tree, and the Sea #alone #old
maryrubya4734

MRubya

New Creator

Whispers of Time: The Old Man, the Dried Tree, and the Sea #alone #old #Poetry

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