Warty hopper, Flies my snack Hypnotic lollipop, Who might lick back I sit and croak, Upon a log, Don't give an F, I'm not a frog

My roots are deep, my branches high, A haven for birds, as they touch the sky, I stand through seasons, strong and true, A symbol of life, for me and you.

Deep in the jungle I am there waiting for your gradual dare

Babbling beggar? Flower in a square? Bend to my mouth, I spit in the air.

I sit inland and mirror mountains. Rivers come to me; some leave, some don’t. My waves are quiet, my winters solid. A few of my kind are called Great. What am I?