Poem / The Tree

The Tree

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Starting as just a tiny seed
Tossed around, eaten and excreted
A soft bed of dirt
Its radicle gets to work

Parting its cotyledons
That provide for its plumule
That keep it fed
That provide the nutrient needed for growth
So one day it'll be a big oak

Situated away from wild animal
Keeping it out of their mandibles
First couple of weeks are harsh
Small, insignificant and subject to harm

A year's gone by
Grown into a little sapling
The winter was dry
The cold nearly killed it

Five years now
Finally growing sizable bows
10 years past
This trees going to last

30 years later
The branches are now an accumulator
Hundreds of nest
Stitched together by feathered chests

50 years are just a memory
Generations of birds sing their melody

100 years have seemed to disappear
Now strung with meters of Old man's beard

500 years of age
This tree is the sage

1000 years how the climate has changed
The leaves are starting to wilt
The the colors are starting to fade
The trunk has adopted a large tilt

1200 years long gone
The birds sing their good bye song
The tree of genealogy
That housed prosperity

2000 years the tree split and died
Fell in mud and petrified
Now found in a nature reserve
On top of an extraordinary berg

By Ethan
2017/06/14

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