Even as a lonely seed
it knew what it was meant to be.
It knew the care that it would need
to grow into a mighty tree.
Knowing not what it would grow,
you planted it with loving hands,
you basked it in a warming glow
and nurtured it without demands.
You provided it with water--
with dry shelter you’re repaid,
and, ever as the sun burns hotter,
you are welcome in the shade.
It will trade its breath for yours--
it needs the CO2 to live,
and it hopes you think of more
than just the oxygen it gives.
In the boughs it harbors birds
to entertain you with their songs
in return for all the words
you found to help it grow this strong.
Every fruit the tree can bear
is grown to nourish you, alone,
to repay the love and care
that you have diligently shown.
All of life’s a revolution--
cyclical, from start to start.
Both in love and retribution
never will the two ends part.
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