You are the Magnanimous Tree.
You've lived through many lives.
You do not move,
but you tell stories.
Tales on which we thrive.

We see the leaves become
coated in red.
Soon you will be bare.
We watch the first to fall,
in sympathetic dread.

Silently you sit back and watch,
although we feel you yearn.
You await the day the snow
will melt,
and await our return.

When tears of the sky drench
your form, you bravely endure.
Accepting it
as you always have,
your position strong and sure.

We gravitate to you
each day.
Remaining
within your protective shade,
you keep the intense heat away.

You are the Magnanimous Tree.
You've seen more than we know
you've stood through
the perpetual cycle
continuing to grow.