Poem by Rebekah Ueland
My dear old friend–how old are you?
What stories can you tell?
Of men and birds and mice and bees,
Of age-stained stones and tow’ring trees?
Inside your gentle folds and swells,
What sacred secrets have you viewed?
What fearsome hunt of beast and prey
Makes earthen veins run cold?
How long did piercing rains pour down
To leave deep scars upon your brow?
But soft you give reply,
“Such rains relent to blossoms bold
And quarrels rest at break of day.”
What creature lies and wakes no more;
What young girl’s love began?
Have whispered words once spoken here
Ignited lasting love revered?
What grand adventures first were planned
By children sprawled on your green floor?
So tell me friend–how old are you?
How long shall you endure?
Beyond the lives of mortal men
When will your records reach their end?
Still softly you reply,
“Since dawn of first words spoken pure
Until the morn of earth renewed.”