Ancient Silence

The tree, thousands of years old,
Has been patient for years
Whispering with others
Witnessing many tears
It knows that patterns
Can change and shift
It knows that wolves
Can go from beauty to brute

Birds sing then crickets chirp
Flowers wilt and wither  
Jade-green turns to gold
Air becomes crisp-cold
The tree has stood there
Through it all, many times

A creature that is only very young
Can never truly know this language, this tongue

The tree has been patient
For thousands of long years
Surrounded by the scent of soil;
Earthy and fresh from the rain,
It knows things we do not
It knows every tear.