Long ago

Twas a seed

It grew and grew

Courageously, rooting and branching, into the unknown

Never did the tree compare to another

Freely overhanging its neighbours

Entwined vines, and overlapping roots

Life everywhere

But still one-ness

Innocence

Creaking trunks

Clashing foliage

Offshoots sailing

Fussing about

Putting up such a fight

While the grass danced below

Tickling the trees trunk

And the eagles frivolously flew above

Making the tree laugh

Look how proudly the tree stands

And how lovely the grass dances

Innocence . . . love . . .

The tree doesn’t play in the storm

The tree is one with the storm

The storm plays it

Than it just plays along

Swaying innocently in storm

Catching the unknown into transcendent trance

Feeling the dance of life

And the life of dance

Mystery orchestrating nature

Eating from the storm of life

Colossally springing upright

Revealing the trees kingdom

One man

Terrorized the tree

Because man slayed its neighbor

So the tree thought once . . .

Maybe I could be sweet

Out came the syrup

Pick me to stay

I am sweet the tree says

Leave me be for all to enjoy

What a lovely gift man said

How sweet he said

Not many other trees had such a sweet gift

So trees turned against the sweet tree

The sweet tree was the most hated tree

Man began killing all trees

Killing all life

To use its death

For the scribbling’s of another life

If no inner sweetness . . .

Was to be found

Seeds began gazing up at the rarity

The what was before one-ness, and free

Is now caught in celebrity

Some get uncomfortable . . .

Gazing up . . . in fear

Preferring to live comfortably

Hesitating, analyzing, and inhibiting growth

Other life commences

Nature’s statue of immortality remains

Man seeded fear . . .

Darkness bled through seed

Harrowing the heart

Curbing growth

Fleeing to rat

Flocking

Dying

Death.

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