Creaking, Cracking, Snapping,
The wind whistles through the lonely maple’s branches.



It drips golden tears of sap.


Towering over the verdant forest


Like an ancient sentinel

The tree silently mourns its fallen family.




It ponders,


Meanings of life,


Meanings of death,


Ponders its loneliness.




It realizes,

To stop the pain of loneliness



It must die,

And so, with the last drop of its resolve



It falls.
Golden-red leaves tumble to the forest floor,


Thousand year branches snap,




And in death,



it realizes,



It was not alone.