Steadfast

up on the mountain lives an old tree
empires have come and gone yet still she
stands tall and steady, growing when warm
one thousand two hundred years from when born -

insects and birds, squirrels and bears
for generations have also lived where
she reproduces while reaching up high
like beings with wings it seems she could fly -

once in a forest of towering mates
by man decimated still there as she waits
for some of her children to grow up around,
cedar as yellow as anywhere found -

one thousand two hundred years from when born
steadfast in all times, never forlorn
the planet keeps turning as time slips away
this tree on the mountain can show us the way

to breathe in and breathe out the blessings of air
relentless and rhythmic for all everywhere
high in the mountains or down by the sea
you where you're listening to words flow through me -