Abandoned Dreams

Abandoned dreams hanging like a loose weathered door on rusted hinges, once a fluttering butterfly over fields of wildflowers, now a distant memory of what could have been, a creaking old door playing in the wind

and the tree said

And the Tree said, if you let me be, my leaves will give shade to thee, I will give to you air for to breath, and beauty for you to see, will cover the mountain tops with green and the valley with my mist, and all I ask is simply, let me exist.