Beneath the heavens’ azure dome,
Stands a sentinel of old,
With roots that delve into the loam,
And stories yet untold.
Its leaves, they dance with gentle breeze,
A symphony so sweet,
A whisper from the ancient trees,
Where earth and sky do meet.
Through seasons’ change and time’s embrace,
It stands with steadfast grace,
A witness to the human race,
In nature’s quiet place.
So let us bow and give our plea,
To the guardians of the land,
For in the heart of every tree,
Lies wisdom, pure and grand.