Sovereignty

He’d gone for a walk In his local wood Fell asleep there Where he stood. Ten years later When he next awoke He’d assumed the form Of a juvenile oak. Felt the breeze, Felt rain’s gentle tap, Felt the force of Flowing rising sap, The thrust of roots, Anchoring down deep, Felt aware, felt at ease, Then fell back to sleep. Any human sentience Now near gone As fifty years had Progressed on, Firmly established in It’s allotted space, A tree experienced life At a different pace. With the semblance of An almost sigh Bid the last trace of His Humanity goodbye. Standing firm and tall Dominating the ground Now the Major Oak of All woods spread around