An Old Tree

An Old Tree Bails unlocking their way From the soil of dystopia to the branches of sonnet. Wind wavering and crossing mountains away And I yet holding onto the branches un-cleft. When clouds bring over ponder I bet of green. Birds hover and wonder Of a rainy day, of a rainy scene. Fields then overturn I see humans cheering. And the dancing daffodils bring so much fun To them, to humans it is unwavering. How constant I fear of losing these sights? Maybe the root knows. The green of me has reached its heights Fearing of fall? Not now the bird hopes. Fruits and leaves when they fall Joy in children then arises. Prancing and dancing trees and flowers stall Just to match the bright glitter of their eyes. I, an old tree knows all of wind Yet was always amazed by what it brings A friend or a fiend? As its deceits the memories untwined. The childhood twigs, jolly and green For a touch of rain, they defer. Handy of leaves and keen For a touch of rain, they defer. Twisted roots and soil so fresh Unbuckled chucks and no boots. Now such a mess My roots. Have I grown to be too stiff? Can I not dance once again? Would the children ever make their trip Forgetting all of their pain? The wind scorching in the fields And then the dancing daffodils. Across many hills Across many mills. Even behind the sun Away from the sea. Would the wind even just for fun Ever reach me? Just for a moment of passage For the wood and bails. Would the clouds ever pass my message? Of an empty rain.