A tree starts young as just a seed
to grows its roots and trunk, it needs
water, air, and light from Sol,
so with a wish, I dig a hole,
and place the seed down deep inside,
cover with dirt and hopes, then I
walk away. The seed stays in the ground.
In days or weeks, it is bound
to poke its green head from the earth
soon to fill mankind with mirth
for all who gather surely know
the tree will grow and grow and grow
and one day offer fruit to eat.
They’ll taste the citrus, tart and sweet.
But interest lost–it takes too long
to germinate, grow big and strong
enough for branches to hold the fruit
the impatient one had once pursued.
Still slowly, carefully, it grows tall.
It’s remembered to have started small,
but now I barely can believe
the growth it made since I did leave
it all alone there in the soil.
The tree itself did yearn and toil
knowing that one day it could be
a beautiful flowering, fruiting tree.
So there it stands when I come back
with growing branches, hues brown and black
when it is darkened by the rain,
the wet that helped it to remain
Strong and healthy while I was gone
through all those dusks and all those dawns.
It’s not quite ready to flower yet,
But one day soon, I can bet
’cause the world has thus far taken care
of the seed I’d planted there.
So I’ll trust nature to run its course–
that beautiful self-sufficient force.
This tree right here to me has shown
that noticed or not we all have grown
and more than that, we’ll one day see
ourselves with branches flowering.
Though trees and man will surely die,
the citrus will bloom, and (maybe, just maybe) so will I.
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