**The Quiet Strength of a Tree**
In silence, rooted deep and still,
A tree stands tall upon the hill.
Its branches stretch to touch the sky,
Yet whispers softly, passing by.
Through seasons’ dance and winds that roar,
It holds its ground, and asks for more.
With roots that burrow, strong, unseen,
It anchors life in spaces green.
No boastful shout, no frantic plea,
The quiet strength of a tree.
It weathers storms with silent grace,
Enduring time, a steady place.
Its leaves may fall, its bark may age,
But still it stands upon the stage,
A witness to both sun and rain,
A keeper of joy, a balm for pain.
Through every ring that marks the years,
It learns to shed its quiet fears,
To bend but never break or fall,
A testament to standing tall.
And when the world seems full of noise,
The tree will teach in soft, calm voice:
That strength is not in thunder loud,
But in stillness, rooted, proud.
So let us learn, as trees do grow,
To stand our ground, though winds may blow,
And find our strength in quiet ways,
In steady roots and patient days.