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We forget we are like trees, our roots run deep, and far they reach Unseen they mostly are, hidden out of side, so deep Some forget them, and their histories and from where they came Their mothers, mothers, mothers name And their fathers, fathers, fathers name. These roots our foundation, have many names Without them, we would not be the same. And much like the tree, we need nourishment to grow The right amount of food and water must flow In and out of our body it goes, like that of the trees trunk in which it helps feed The trunk is our body , which came from a seed ,that was you in your mother’s womb she like grass that covers the trees seed. And the soil in which we grow. And then seemingly leave Seemingly invisible connections, unseen roots still connect us to she. We grow and we branch, bearing many a fruit, attempting to reach our father in the sky, but never quiet reaching that high, But still high enough, as the light is clearer here, before we were children, like the little tree, under the cover of many higher other canopies. Our family and friends, ones that came before, much older than me, but now I am equal in height to the, some them now, stand beneath me. much like one day, the smaller younger trees of today will be equal to me. Children are these trees. As life is, the seeming passing of things . The gentle breathe of wind that strokes the face of me, is comparable to the wind that gently shakes her leaves, her canopy sways slowed like a woman’s hair blows in the breeze He stands in storms,, hail and snow. Nothing will stop his potential growth. The storms, hail and snow, for us are like the world affairs we undergo. For it toughens us and makes us stronger, after its low. For if rain is sadness and sun is a smile . Then surely, we need a little of both, to understand the balance, like a rivers flow. For with constant sun, it would always be lacking, needing rain but nothing passing . As with only rain, it would need sun, either one alone and the tree would stun. The ups and downs, as it sees the sun rise tall every day, before it falls, only to repeat the journey on a never changing its course. They were never the tree, that was simply a temporary home, now they return to ether, to nothing, their original home .
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