You stand tall, statuesque
with your long graceful branches
reaching and stretching
in so many different directions
creating new branches
which create branches -
both those we see now
and those yet to come.
Your outer dermis
is cracked in places
worn by the cruel passage of time -
but if one looks closely
they can see signs
of soft new growth.
You offer shade
a cool haven
from the midday sun
and a sense of being home
within the embrace
of your limbs.
Though your roots
remain firmly planted
in the rich, fertile soil
they break through
the surface in places
making the ground underneath
bumpy and difficult to trod -
causing them to be nicked
by swirling blades.
You have stood here
for many years -
and from the storms
you have weathered
comes a wisdom of the ages -
a peace
a sense of rest
as I lean back
against your solid trunk,
close my eyes
and listen to your windsong.
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