THE TREE

The fall is finally here,

and the tree is standing bare,

without the green it once held,

as the leaves have all been shed.

But the tree is still as serene,

as it has always been.

Its still so majestic and calm now,

still the same charm, but how?

What kept its spirits high?

-The promise of the cloudy sky,

or the bond with the earth so strong,

or the little bird’s consoling song?

I see it cheerful,

I see it cool,

awaiting the rain,

awaiting the green.