What came to me during my friend's gig:

What is a tree?
I.
A shelter.
With kind leaves to counter elements;
Sharp shields, a green protecting army,
and branches that ungrudgingly hold
weary bird and beast alike.

II.
Life.
Without these rough-barked giants
who mass-produce the air we breathe
yet attach no value added,
where am I?

III.
A Playground.
I scramble clumsily up the trunk,
my rough child's feet gripping smooth bark,
and my hands pull me higher.
I can spy everything from here.
Others shout down below.

IV.
A mother.
A safe haven I turn to
when my day has been wrong.
I sit hidden; the breeze gives branchy hugs
and rocks me until the sadness flees.

V.
A best friend.
I will entrust no one but a tree
With the knowledge of whom I love.
Soft giggles and red flushed cheeks
as I cut his initials into the trunk,
trusting my secret will be safe.

VI.
A builder.
Without trees there would be no written word,
no fires to warm pale, cold-bumped skin.
They give selflessly, we give nothing:
they do not crave gratitude.

~W.D.W.