The 700 Year Old Tree

A very old tree, stands tall another day long. A man walks by as another bird sings it's song. 700 years ago this tree was just a seed. Ready to grow, in a world of love, hate and greed. Sorrow has unfolded as this tree grew. Joy and heartache but amazing things too. It's seen empires rise and fall where now skyscrapers stand tall. Bustling towns once destined to expand, is now miles of empty baron land. It's stood by and watched people cry, as metal birds dropped fire from the sky. It's seen ignorance fight and win many a battle. On grounds that after all this time, are now just fields of cattle. This grand old tree sits powerless, to interfere with our day. Oh how the world might be, if it could have taken part in some way. Watching the years go by and people, give birth, live and die. Buildings going up and down and once mighty rivers now dry. Animals that passed by, and sheltered from the rain. Their species is no more, perhaps, their existence was in vain? This tree recalls a noble man, five hundred years gone by. Not famous, nor known, so in a book, his name we'll not spy. A tree cannot talk, yet, so much of the world it has known. Without a mouth to tell it's tales, all that knowledge will remain it's own.