The seed falls upon the fertile ground,
And imbeds itself in the soil.
In a few days a small seedling appears.
The rain falls upon the tiny seedling,
And as a drop hits it, it bends with the weight.
But the tiny seedling holds the strength of a mighty tree.
Seasons come and go and turn into years.
And the seedling survives storms,
..........and cold,
....................and drought,
..............................and insect invasion,
But the tree grows.
And it's bark is colored and spotted from desease.
And it's branches are bent from the wind and the rain.
As you look at the tree you can see the damage that's been done.
And to some it appears worn,
And older then it's time.
And they see no use for such an old and ugly tree.
But up in the branches is a birds nest,
Holding three tiny baby robins,
Chirping as their mother feeds them
And at the base a squirrel scampers.
And some of those bent and gnarled branches,
Make mighty fine climbing!
As you look at the damage done over the years,
Notice it's character and it's strength.
For that tree was never broken,
That tree survived,
That tree is me.
© 1997 faye37@juno.com
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