Why Am I

My ancient friend stood mute upon the hill, Not wanting to impart the wisdom of his nature. And I, desolate and lost begged for his discourse. He stood upon that hill, majestic and sublime, while gentle winds caressed his unruly golden hair. I walked to him and asked again. 'Why am I'? Standing next to him, I could not help but feel, he understood the question yet silent he remained. I didn't hear him speak yet somehow felt his essence. His massive limbs reached for the sky providing cooling shade while I, felt safe beside his mighty frame. I saw pieces of his golden hair had fallen from his crown. For this robust and friendly giant knew too well the cycle of the seasons. I again asked the question, 'Why am I'? But he uttered no reply. I sat Beside my friend my questioning mind now calm. The silence crept inside my soul. Its calming stillness tickled my insides. Feeling restful and worthwhile, I looked up at the sky. And all at once I knew, my friend had answered me.