At The Park - Poem by Cynthia BuhainBaello
At the park, there stands a tree,
Its twisted trunk marks well its years
With leaves still green, its branches proudly
Embrace the sky and drink its tears.
There was a time when it was young,
When birds would crown it with their nest,
Its leaves danced, swayed to a summer song
But now this tree would soon bend to rest.
For a time it gave such a verdant shade,
And lived for its noble purpose and reason
This tree has shown what from life could be made
In silence, giving us the hope to go on.
Photo: Japanese gardens
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