The wind blows and rain
beats down upon my leaves.
There was a time, in my youth,
that I would have been afraid.

I fear no more.

I grew, turning my leaves
toward the sun and welcoming
the birds to nest in my arms.
The wind rustled their feathers
and I laughed with joy.

The joy of youth.

The squirrels came and ran
up and down my body.
They would jump and chatter
as they played.  Their laughter
filled my ears and brought a
smile to my face.

My arms soon reached to
the clouds. The wind whispers
through my leaves.

The birds and squirrels would
giggle with me as we swayed
to and fro in the strong breeze,
sharing in the song of a long,
happy friendship.

Now the birds that I called my
friends, pick at me and call me
names. They move their nests,
they do not trust me. The
squirrels run up and down the
younger trees.

They found new friends.

The wind blows and the rain
beats down upon my leaves.

I do not fear.

I laugh, I bend with the blows,
I endure the hurtfulness of
my friends.

I am strong, but I
still feel pain! 

This is a fantastic piece, Karen.  I think it is very strong and am glad that you decided to to publish it here. 

Great work.

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