How many times we haven't wished to be part of that crowd over there, feeling like we were a solitary tree a stone throw distance from the forest?
We couldn't move, because...

Patiently waiting is a solitary tree,
giving shadows in the summer
by its roots to a never ending road
going somewhere with the wind,
the same one that carries salty drops
from a faraway unending sea.

Years after years standing still, with
branches devoid of eager children
rescuing beautiful princesses
from the flying dragons midst,
up there, where is a empty nest
long ago abandoned by small birds.

Not moving, going nowhere it is,
a road lying to waste at its feet,
with of others worlds promises
and a forest about, out of reach,
just a short traveling distance,
if it cared a few steps down the hill.

How sad one day is going to be,
when travelers' absence will let time
to erase the road without the tracks
left by the long gone walking feet,
why so, before the road's dead
that very old tree can't go
down the road and to the forest
just "that" little bit?