Still Elder

Callused from the rigors of weathering the storm,
adverse winds change my posture from the norm.
Extending deep and wide, roots penetrate the firmament,
a light layer of soil serves tightly rationed nourishment.
Clinging to the rocks which hold solid my foundation,
drawing from the earthly realm a source of inspiration.
Drinking of the waters I stand strong and tall,
stretching towards the morning light, towering over all.
Clothed in emerald fabric that bathes in luminescence,
I breathe in and out with the world, transferring quiescence.
Firmly planted in the ground, still I dance with gale,
laughing with the autumn leaves, my brilliant waving sail.