A child, the woods, a very small tree

Someone had created it just for me,

The path to this place was hard to find

Never straight or even clearly defined,

As life got busy I tried my best

I didn’t have time even to rest

Then one day I took a walk

Came to the tree and decided to talk

As I looked up at the branches on the tree

I questioned how it got bigger than me

This would become a special place

A break from work, the everyday race

The tree now large, it’s branches a shroud

I would talk once again, to God and no crowd

I decided to stay, it was windy and cold

How long did it take for that tree to get old

I would start to head back on the path to the right

I will never forget what I heard that night

You have always prayed beside my tree

You lived a good life believing in me

Just like the tree I am now getting old

I will be with God when my story is told

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