What does the tree say?

I am whistling and rustling,
Harried by the wind’s hustling.
Even without moving I know this world’s folklore.
I am a weapon, I am a page.
I am the binder of this soil.
I am the protector of this stage.
Still humble, I am a home to many.
I served my duty by being a shade to a divine sage.

You still don’t understand my worth—
What to do?
Then there would be no earth.
I feel sorry for you.
Your creations, your stories,
Your verses, your dreams.
I will tell your glory still.
If you let me live…
If you let me live, that would be another story.