Trees

Sturdy trunks offer solace and shade.
A stoic face
Full of grace.
 
Supple arms draped in gossamer webs,
Swaying easily,
Dancing breezily.
 
Long limbs slender or stout,
Cloaked in lichens,
As fruit ripens.
 
Roots twisted with history and memory. 
Raised like veins,
Or sunken skeins.
 
Trapped in a tempest,
Braced for the storm,
Boughs torn.
 
Branches flailing helplessly,
Violently swaying
Perhaps praying.
 
Sap seeps from fresh wounds,
Weary but stoic,
Even heroic.
 
Trees weave yesterday with tomorrow.
The cycle of despair
And repair.
 
Take the time
To ask a tree
About the future it can see.