Poem: The Maple Tree

Look upon the standing maple, see how the wind swirls – smiles. 

My majestic tree sits surrounded, solitary. Residing amidst a shady grove, yet singular. 

The gentle, steadfast maple. 

The wind loves rustling against its side, nestling amid the hollows. 

Rejoicing in the peaceful caress of the breeze––

Tracing the branches, longing to see the roots, the lifeblood, the truth.

Whispering sweet, warm whhhhuuussshhhhes along the leaves;

How the wind loves to make the steady maple dance and sway!

Cut and clawed, the maple does not cry––oh, what a giver! The sweetness flows, my maple provides. 

Amidst the hardship, chaos, and crime, the maple whispers “climb….”

The sweet, stalwart maple. 

The wind seals the slashes, sharing the syrup marred with sorrow (the wine of time).