Remember

300 years
have passed,
you were as old as time.

Your leaves dropped
every winter, your flowers
were received with a gasp.

Strangers joined
under your blossoms,
sharing the shade with the grass.

What a colorful image!
All realms mingling
without spite.

How I long to remember
morning dew in spring,
the rooted stillness,
the language of the wind.

How I long to recall
the thread between lives,
the web that connects us all,
the heartbeat when you were I.