You stood for years, a home to life,
and birds and squirrels were welcome there.
In autumn your bright yellow hues
proclaimed God's glory everywhere.
When you were clothed in gown of green,
you shared relief from summer sun.
At harvest time, you freely gave
nuts to sustain till winter's done.
For many years you stood steadfast,
and to earth's breast,your strong roots clung.
Storm winds took aim, and life's sap ceased,
but e'en in death, new life has sprung.
Your roots still hug the earth's sweet crust
long after sap has ceased to flow.
Your trunk once sturdy, strong, and straight
was severed by wind's mighty blow.
But now the lichens call you home
and decorate what's left of you.
Your base becomes a perch of sorts
to give an owl a garden view.
A lesson from your stump, you'd share;
one's usefulness should never die.
As long as there is something left,
you serve and never question why.
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