Eternal Roots

In twisted branches, ancient wisdom sleeps, A sentinel of earth, where secrets creep. The tree stands tall, a guardian of old, Its roots entwined with stories yet untold. In every knot, a tale is spun, Of seasons past, of life begun. The leaves, a canvas, painted bright, Dancing in breezes, through day and night. In its bark, the marks of time are told, A chronicle of moments young and old. A symbol of strength, in flexibility, A bridge between earth and sky's infinity. In its depths, a mirror to the soul, A reflection of life's ebb and flow. To stand beneath its boughs is to be, Connected to the cycles of eternity.