In the thick stands a tree
firm and deep rooted,
His leaves the deep thoughts
budding tight in the wind.
Err the wind blows,
the leaves, they don't falter
but dance in the current and hold firm to the end.
Solid and sure his branches jet outward
his roots reach down inward,
his gaze, it transcends.
Absorbing the drink of knowledge and knowing
His words may be few
but his thoughts never end.
Yet near that tree flitting,
dancing and singing
the bird she is flying but doesn't descend.
Rather she rests upon strong reaching branches
While breaking from joyfully riding the wind.
Unlike the tree she moves without thinking
and risks all worth risking and yet does not bend.
Her chirp, quite the giggle, her joy not lacking
all while shamelessly deeming the tree her best friend.
The tree, he is steady, a tree in his being,
Always a branch from him there to lend,
She nests and she rests in all of his glory,
Chirping him love songs again and again.
The tree, in his quiet, he shades and protects her,
lifts her, is with her from now to the end,
And she tickles the bark with innocent nonsense
And she brings forth his laughter, hidden deeply within.
So very different, yet here for each other
the tree and the bird, through thick and through thin
Thoughtful and true meets joyful surrender
Each their own being, yet better as friends.