What a Fire

You stood there on the mountainside year upon year
Your hollow holding shrines
Your branches sheltered poets, philosophers and djinns
The world came just to pass you by

You stood among the traffic and you breathed it in
For sustenance you sought the poorest land
Your roots went deep and your branches spread
You marked the sea, the sky, the strand

You took in everything the world had to give
With wonder and curiosity
An archaeologist of your own design
Excavating history