Untouched

The great tree is bowed:
Bent by the weight of time,
Twisted out of shape by the elements--
Wind,
Rain,
Lightning.
It crouches low,
Submerged in the lake
By never-ending floods,
Reflecting in silent still waters:
An empty skeleton.
Gaunt branches droop,
Reaching for the crystal surface
That holds the sky--
The blue,
The gold,
The purple,
The pink.
Precarious on the tallest limb,
A single emerald leaf--
A single tear--
Shines brazenly amidst the quiet.
Falling now
To the convergence of earth and sky,
It floats and waits, untouched,
And Time itself stops.