Old Tree

Pseudo-knowledge
Is entertaining at best
But I do beg your pardon
That I don't heed your requests
To bow down my boughs
At a saplings request
Because I am a very old tree.
A tree whose leaves provide books with their page

A tree whose roots are much deeper than most

My branches are wide, giving copious shade

And though I stand proud I have no aim to boast

I am gnarled and twisted by the storms of this life

I am shaped by the winds and scorched by the fire

And despite all the struggles both inside and out

I seek out healthful waters and go forth even higher

These young saplings speak

Like they know all that's best

The shrubs and the bushes are so quick to bend knee

But I smile and I pray they continue to grow

Because I am a very old tree.