Standing, Still

A single tree stands alone,
battered by wind and rain
Bent and broken branches
Lost to time and pain
Yet still it stands on its hill
Alone but to the careful eye
For looking closer one would
See another tree standing by
A sapling yet, leaves still bright
Grows in the lea of the hill
Its tender roots provided purchase
in the damaged tree standing, still.
Yet so few can see the damaged tree
would fall so easy to the storm
Should ever the sapling cease to
shelter beneath its twisted form
So little tree, thrive and dream
in the solid ground you know
Strong and silent your guardian
too will continue to grow
A patriarch and his heritage,
Commanding the sundrenched hill
And I'll look often from so far away
To see you both standing, still.