Those who live short and mobile lives,

Those may seem like hasty folk,

For a life in movement,

Is guaranteed to move toward death,

But that is not to say that they are pointless,

For all other living beings,

Seek to live reproduce and try and live as long as possible,

That is not so for me.

For I started as a seed,

Way back before I knew what time was,

I knew not of any parent,

And I was okay with that,

For none of my neighbors seemed bothered by it,

Nor did they know their children,

They sheltered me and provided,

They grew taller than the sky above,

Or so it seemed to me at the time.

Two leaves and a stem,

Two more leaves and taller I get,

I am sapling,

I have no bark to call my own,

and no bite either,

It is still a strong growing time for me,

For though the days come and go,

My leaves produce my means to live,

The rain produces my need for drink,

I must grow even more,

Taller and taller,

To welcome the sun at the start of each day,

That is my goal,

Squirrels and bugs,

They crawl up and down my bark,

I provide them with food, 

They provide me with aeration and fertilization,

We all have purpose within the forest,

My neighbors and I see new visitors in the forest,

News of the visitors spread throughout every edge,

The arrival of men had come.

For the hill I stand on my prove to be my salvation, 

For I am at the top,

The sun is far above, 

My branches are wide and strong,

I bear fruit,

Apples are what I was blessed enough to give,

My neighbors are hacked and whacked,

They don’t enjoy it, 

But they do accept that they are still serving a purpose,

I am left alone on the hill,

Time passes,

The farmer plows and tills his fields,

I still grow,

I must maintain my strength,

I must maintain my bounty,

I must see the sun,

I must grow taller.

The man made daily trips out to see me,

He brings his progeny,

He makes a swing out of a fallen log,

Two pieces of rope around my thickest branch,

I have become more useful, 

I have earned more purpose,

I feel that my fruit has become sweeter.

The years pass like days,

I am visited more and less by the man and his family,

His wife,

His son, 

His daughter,

Picnics are held,

More than one family,

I feel more joy,

My life is to stand tall with pride.

The nights are long and cool,

A nice reprieve from the long activities of the day,

For this night was special,

The son came out in the fullness of the moon,

Another comes along side of him,

A daughter of another family,

For though this child sat on my swing one day,

He now seeks to become more in the calm night,

A man is made under my branches,

A bride is seen under the bright falling stars,

Wonders never cease,

In my time,

From seed to sapling,

From sapling to tree,

From forest to field,

From field to family,

From one family to many,

My life is undeniably grand.