Speaking Tree

A bit droopy, shaggy, and grey, but I still prevail

still, protect one and many from heat and hail

Against all odds, I protect my surroundings 

Stay grounded even when I am wet and shivering

Still possess a bunch of hefty and healthy deep roots

even when some of the soil around it has gotten loose

Am never biased as to who gets to rest under me

am a friend always to each stranger visiting me

My branches are cradles, my whispers are lyrics

That puts birds to sleep and brings the mind to peace

My fallen leaves dance in the wind like butterflies

My hanging roots become swings for you to high flying

Alive or not, for you and mother nature, am still useful

It's only when I am charred, I am no more useful

I am the poetry - that once a stranger had written

for many other strangers passing by to enjoy and listen

I am the speaking tree-

If only you had ears - to hear my plea

If only you would - just let me - be.