It is only a tree
That is all I see
The texture rough
To my soft touch
Some roots are found
Splayed above ground
Many its branches are
Stretching reaching far
Sprouting out each alone
In a fork is a nest
With eggs it rests
A windless breeze
Gently sways its leafs
Causing the shadow
To dance below
An army of ants trail
Single file without fail
Feeding off its green
Scurrying to ground unseen
Squirrels also have a home
From which they roam
Scampering limb to limb
Just upon a whim
Then a mighty lurch
A hawk flees its perch
Watching it take flight
A swarm of beetles’ insight
So much to see
When you truly
Look at a tree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem