The Life of the Tree


The sweet scent of china lily stirred through the willow tree.
A single wavering leaf sundered itself,
And drifted, withering at the mercy of the wind.
The wind inciting the thin-skinned leaf into an intricate dance,
Yet, it was bound to invisible strings towing it close to Earth.

Mother earth will always eventually rehabilitate herself,
The sun will always rise in the east,
Which brings new hope to those lost lingering leaves in the wind.

The gold-spun grass twirled in the wind,
Each blade like a ring of a tree, dependent on the ring before it.
The life of a blade of grass, similar to that of humans,
Reliant on the assets of Earth.

Roots, a reflection of life on Earth,
Intertwined within one another,
Trees and humans alike,
Aspire to conceal layers of dizzying secrets
Into the labyrinth of roots,
Away from the faintest rays of sunlight

As the sweet scent of china lily stirred through the willow tree.
All children of the earth, all various colours of the wind,
In the great web of Earth, man is merely a strand, rigid and narrow.
But with the wind, earth, fire, and water.
Life will go on.

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