Whisperings Of A Well Lived Life

I am like the tall dead tree

staring at me as I do my morning exercises.

All of her youthful beauty now gone,

she stands, silently, still surrendering

her limbs as a resting place for birds.

I stretch my own tired limbs,

inviting the day’s life force

to lubricate my joints, much like

the tin man in the Wizard Of Oz.

And we both know that soon enough

we will be composted for new life to begin,

to be mirrored in the springtime blossoms,

the delicate dances of ballerinas,

and the laughter of a world in love.