He is resilient and feeds us.

He sounds like leaves rustling, yet silent.

He smells like a fresh mango grown from a garden.

He tastes like juicy, sour apple.

I see a humongous tree whose branches are filled with crunchy, red balls.

I want to find a hole and take a nap within his trusty arms.

I ask how tall he is and where his beauty comes from.

He says, I have grown over a long time, with patience; beauty comes with patience.

He is resilient and feeds us.