Sprout of a Birch

It is morning but soon It will be noon It is late May early June Last night the class was observing visage of full moon This morning school kids are planting a tree From a tiny sprout they hope beautiful birch will be They each hope they live long enough that this birch they will see As a full grown tree Suddenly fire engulfs the morning sky Above their heads airplanes begin to fly Wherever they drop a bomb someone will die And soon in ruins many buildings lie Fire rages throughout the city Tanks fire upon the structures without pity They don’t care much for citizens’ plea Anyone who is capable must flee For brief second there is calm Then dreadful whistling sound accompanying fall of a bomb Children try to hide each behind their mom But noting can protect from impact of the bomb Fighting goes on from street to street But as the city is at the brink of defeat The national army sends their elite And with all their fury enemy must retreat Many years passed and again there is June Previous night there once again was full moon The birch has grown to great tree showing her beauty this afternoon Yet in her boughs there seems to be whispering eerie and melancholic tune Many children who planted it now adults are Some came here from near and far But not all made it through the war Yet in that moment of sorrow something happened beautiful if bizarre The birches bark that is ghostly white Seems to move and glow in sunlight It is suddenly shined on by pillar of light And divine presence assures survivors that their friends are aright They bodies dead but their souls intact They are in better place and that is a fact The birch they planted is life concrete and abstract And all the levels beyond abstract