Sense

**To the Tall of the Sycamore**  

You rise where whispers touch the sky,  
A steadfast soul, roots buried deep,  
Through seasons’ dance you hold your place,  
A watchful giant, silent keep.  

Your golden leaves in autumn’s glow,  
A fluttering tale the breezes weave,  
And when the winter strips you bare,  
Your rugged grace I still believe.  

Through storm and sun, through night and noon,  
You stretch in quiet, noble might,  
To stand so tall yet sway so free—  
Oh sycamore, my heart takes flight.

Expensive life passes faster than running water🖤

This is absolutely beautiful…
Your words breathe life into the sycamore, turning it into a quiet hero standing tall through time. 🍂🌳
Such graceful imagery—it felt like I was standing beneath its golden leaves, listening to its silent wisdom.✨