I’m standing here, staring at a tree
with its roots buried deep, like an old memory
that’s lost its sense of time.
The leaves tremble a little in the wind,
as if remembering all the storms it has weathered—
the lightning strikes, the floods,
the nights so quiet you could hear the soil sigh.

It didn’t ask for any of this,
just like you don’t ask for a lifetime
with its little joys and little sorrows,
its moments of pure joy
and the long stretches of rain
that seem to last forever.
But it stands there, unflinching,
as though...