Rich In Spirit

I saw them bloom in emerald,glistening fields; tall,dauntless and vibrant searching for the sunniest sky: to grow bigger than any other flower, to be noticed by the incandescent sun; but as the days grew shorter, their vanity vanished in gloom... the pitiful sunflowers wailed in twilight... wondering if that was worth their cry! I was delightfully walking under the fragrant and tempting apple trees... emerging from grassy,shimmering slopes crossed by rarely traveled roads that led to misty mountains: when I spotted a multitude of sturdy men cutting down the tallest timber! Their unheard cries of agony couldn't revenge that wanton of cruelty; when greed overrides concern: there's no room for compassion or human sympathy! At the age of sixteen, I planted the smallest pine tree by the sun-scorched foot-ball field... where my many victories were clamored by my peers; and I patiently watched it grow and suddenly gleam... as this writer started to dream, to value Nature's most prized jewels he couldn't afford to lose, or to be snatched from his reach, to make him rich in spirit!