The Old Tree

She stood regally in my backyard
A queen, who in old age had not lost her grace
Retaining dignity even in advancing years
Her branches reached towards my house
Almost touching my bedroom window
I knew she was my guardian
One of those beauteous creatures
Destined to protect vulnerable children
The Queen was more than just a guardian
She was my good friend
I loved to press my weight against her bark
Feeling its gnarled knotty surface
Rough, yet lovingly brushing my arm
I'd scamper high into her branches
Where she'd allow me to sit all day
Protecting and watching over me as I lay in her arms
Sometimes when I stood in the queen's presence
I was a jester in a throne room
Honored to entertain such a majestic tree
She must witnessed so much going on around her
What kind of people had lived in this house before I?
Had she seen many child friends grow up and move away?
She probably saw many kids play the day away
Laughing and dancing round her trunk
Even when I wasn't around her, she was in my thoughts
My favorite class in school became yoga
My favorite pose, tree
Standing there, arms outstretched
Reaching, reaching for the heavens
Feeling strength emanating through my body
Wisdom crossing over from the Queen to me
Through a sacred universal pose
We'd always be close, connected
Even though I'm joining the ranks of deserters
I, like others before me, was leaving the queen
A city bus is taking me away
Belching dirty smoke for its exhaust
I press my nose to its window
On last glimpse at my wise friend
Thanking her for the advice and friendship
provided to a lonely child
Knowing another soon will come
Giving her a gift
The gift?
The comfort of an old tree knowing its wanted and needed by children