Where The Hawk Tree Stands

Beyond the woods, on White-tail Ridge,
A mighty giant stands;
Within a grove of popular trees,
It towers above the land.

The branches of this cottonwood,
Are as thick around as me;
Many times, I’ve sat against,
The trunk, of this awesome tree.

Close to sixty feet tall, this mighty tree stands,
As it rises above those below;
Five feet above the ground, it’s trunk,
Measures twenty feet ’round, or so.

At least two hundred years, this giant has stood,
Forty-six of those years, with me;
I gave it a name, the first time we met,
To me, it’s called, The Hawk Tree.

Two red-tailed hawks, once had a nest,
Way up in this Giant’s crown;
Many times, I watched as they soared,
Above their nesting ground.

The nest was huge, of heavy sticks,
It had to be six feet wide;
Whenever I approached the tree,
With a scream, the hawks would fly.

There were two young hawks, in the nest that year,
All summer, I watched them grow;
By summer’s end, they too, soared aloft,
I hated to see them go.

There was a bad storm, one night, in the fall,
It blew the nest to the ground;
Never again, have hawks built their nest,
In this Giant’s lofty crown.

Whenever I’m up on White-tail Ridge,
I sit under the Hawk Tree, again;
With cathedral-like limbs, spreading above,
Underneath, it is dark shadowed and, dim.

A deep, spiritual feeling, I often get,
In the presence of this huge, old tree;
As I sit against the trunk, once more,
In peace and serenity.

I feel protected, by this ancient tree,
That towers above the land;
Beyond the woods, on White-tail Ridge,
In the place where the Hawk Tree stands.

Where The Hawk Tree Stands

This poem is about a tree and a hawk's nest. The poet sits by the tree in the summer and feels peaceful.