The Tree of Wisdom

At the bottom of our garden, behind the old stone wall, A tree of knowledge looms so grand, it’s really very tall. Its branches reach to outer space, its roots to Earth’s deep core, It’s known to whisper secrets that we’ve never heard before.

Its leaves are full of wisdom, its bark is old and wise, And if you listen closely, you can hear its ancient sighs. It tells of all the times it’s seen, the ages come and go, From dinosaurs to astronauts, it truly seems to know.

One day I tried to climb it, to see what I might learn, But halfway up, I slipped and fell, and landed on a fern. The tree just chuckled softly, as if it knew the trick, “You can’t climb up for knowledge, it’s something you can’t pick.”

I asked it how it grew so tall, and what magic did it use, It answered back with riddles that just left me more confused. “To grow, you must be patient, with roots so deep and strong, And branches always reaching out, to where they do belong.”

So now I sit beneath it, with a notebook and a pen, I jot down all its whispers, from now till who knows when. For the tree of knowledge tells me, in its ancient, leafy drawl, That the greatest wisdom comes from just waiting for the fall.