Rooted here,
not susceptible to decay,
I get to observe human foibles,
from petty weaknesses
to deep and entrenched faults
resulting in outright heartbreak.
Sometimes the view’s a pleasure
as men’s choices
are mostly good for a laugh,
or occasional shocked dismay--
but I’m no weeper
and won’t become entwined
in the pain and foolishness of men.
I remain evergreen,
abundant, your coveted prize.

For Kerry’s prompt to the Real Toads: What has become of the old gods?