Planted years ago, it stood with majestic beauty, vibrant and full.
Firmly seated, it provided shade.
Protection for the birds.
It remained strong in the face of storms.
With ease, it swayed with the winds that came.
Calmness and peace radiated from the place it sat.
Autumn came and slowly it’s leaves began to fall.
One by one, the limbs became stark and rigid.
The winds came and pieces were stripped away.
Broken limbs sat lifeless on the earth below.
Soon there was no shade.
No protection for the birds.
Still, it stood.
Bare and without purpose.
Me - Who am I? 
Your poem makes me think of a person ageing.
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It does doesn’t it? I hadn’t thought of that. That’s a good perception.
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I agree, it reminds me of a person aging. Beautiful words and imagery!
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Thank you, Cindi!
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Beautiful.
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Thank you.
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But…..that bare tree will be budding with new growth again. The birds will return to their places, and the shade will return.
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🙂 Yes it will. Thank you April.
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