A Portrait Lens through the Eye Of A Tree

Two little birds
Sit on a twig.
One sits still
The other, dances a jig.

Like teardrops;
The old tree cried.
So much more
Was hidden inside.

If you place a sundial
The wrong way;
It will be midnight,
In the middle of the day.

So often people grow old
With their stories left untold.
It is sad,
When all is lost
Not understanding 
What their lives have cost.
It is important 
For our mental health,
To know the cards
Those before us were dealt.
Sometimes, through the story of a tree,
You could learn a lot
About someone like me.

Sniff, sniff
Said the owl.
Sniff, sniff
Said the rat.
Then they both sat down.
Now, what do you think about that!

Little forget-me-not
Getting ready to bloom,
You have a story to tell,
Write it soon.

And the music still plays,
In the forest grand.
As a story unfolds
In a far-off land.