It Was a Tree

It’s hard to see, but it’s a stump,
That disintegrating lump.
But long ago it was a tree,
Standing there majestically.
So tall it seemed to never stop.
Too high to really see the top.
Now it sits and decomposes,
Sprouting plants like wild roses.
It’s taken back by nature now.
Recycled as only she knows how.
But it was a tree that used to grow,
Cut down by loggers long ago.