Come rest your tired legs
In the canopy of my shade
My sturdy trunk will be your spine
My sprawled roots your bed,
as you lie supine
Leave your fatigue with me
I will make it my own
Bury it in my soil
Seep it into my bones
Add it to the lines
Etched on my face
To the drooping limbs interlaced
And as you walk away refreshed
I will turn to wait
For the next weary traveler
To walk in through the gate.