Many months have come and gone
In a silent glade
Under the elders shade
Away from prying eyes
Tucked away from harm
I grew

A hundred years passed by
Hushed whispers rustle
My leaves
Bare feet come running
Bare hands hug my branches
Once I was small
But now I have arisen

Two hundred years
Flew past on the wing of the wind
Bustling nests rested on my shoulders
I can hear their calls and cries
Those hands and feet
Are bigger and smarter now

Three hundred years went away
And one day
The melody of the birds faded
Replaced by a crackling sound
Throughout the woods
Until
Thump
My friend lays dead
Beside my feet

Four hundred years have come
What once was a quiet home
Is now an empty wasteland
I hear no sound of birds
My family fell one by one

Five hundred years slipped by
I long for sound
For days of hands climbing up my bough
When laughter rang through the woods
Everything so beautiful

Six hundred years came
For the first time in years
The lifeless silence
Was broken
By the sounds of small footsteps
They dug into the ground
Placed a small something there
A seed
A child

Seven hundred years move past
The seeds beneath the surface
Burst through the blanketed soil
Fragile sprouts grow into strong trunks

Eight hundred years skip by
What once was a desolate emptiness
Is now dotted
With my new children, my family
Yet I still yearn for the song
Of my early days
Until
I hear
The gentle chorus
Of chirps