Beneath this crumbling headstone,
entangled in deep roots, are bones
of a life it once knew;
forgotten in this concrete jungle.
It is unknown.
It is giant, it is wise, it is ancient;
twisted and gnarly limbs search for the sun.
Although these branches loom above always –
clawing for the clouds to bring down rain –
it is a ghost.
But still it grows,
grasping for the warmth, the sunlight,
it knows lies above.
And so great it has become:
the invisible tower.
Longer it has known these grounds –
from above and below –
than we have walked this earth at all.
We know nothing of its past endured,
yet still, it is reaching.