The Old Tree

I sat by the old tree

I begged it to tell me

The secrets it hides

The old tree just stood there

Unacknowledging my existence

I stood up

And pleaded with the old tree

“What does it take to be happy?”

It just stayed

Still, allowing its leafs to trickle down

I kicked

And yelled at the old tree

“Tell me what I need to know!”

The old tree was still ignoring me

Standing tall and proud

I got an ax

And chopped it down

The old tree was now in pieces

Its sap lay sticky on my hands

I made a fire

And burned the old trees limbs

The old tree finally was talking

It crackled and popped

Alas I could not understand

I lay there around its burn

Empty and warm

And looked up at the heavens