Me In The Tree

My feet are planted firmly on the ground,
As my toes drive deep into the damp earth;
A sturdy foundation for my erect torso.
Standing tall, my arms spread wide;
My fingers stretch toward the sky sprouting leaves.
My eyes stare as two woodpecker holes.
I wait and I watch.

For hundreds of years,
I drop seeds from my branches;
Little seedlings sprout from the ground.
My large frame protects them from the weather,
But the shadow from my canopy blocks the light,
And my seedlings fall back to earth.
I watch and I mourn.

Night and day,
Animals climb over me.
They eat from my branches and chew on my bark.
They dig out the bugs that bore holes in my trunk.
I hold their homes in my strong arms,
And protect them from the wind and the rain.
I watch and I smile.

Time goes on;
The city grows around me.
People rest under the shade of my branches,
And carve their names in my trunk.
I hold small children in my arms,
As they swing from my branches.
I watch and I sigh.

Bumped and bruised.
The night falls, as men and women 
Carry their homes on their backs
And lie on nearby benches.
Their sorrow is palpable;
Their need unfathomable.
I watch and I weep.

For days and days,
Torrents of rain pour from the sky.
The earth is sodden
And my toes lose their grip;
My ample weight pulls me down,
As I crash to the ground.
I watch and I wait.

I look to the sky;
The clouds part and the sun shines.
People come with their machines.
They admire my beauty and transform me;
Into logs and planks, I become a sturdy shelter;
A home to a kind family.
I watch and I rest.