Growing Up

I grew up with a sycamore tree.

he helped me along my journey.

Truly reflecting his inner beauty for the world. 

In the night the white bark would glow and radiate. 

It stood apart from every tree. 

Alone.

That's where I found it. 

With Bark broken off by naive school children.

Didn't they recognize it's magnificence? 

I felt it's bark against my fingertips.

I imagined I had magic healing powers and gave it every ounce of those powers I possesed.

The sycamore tree changed me.

Or rather I changed with it. 

What had it seen it's time that I hadn't?

There was a leaf in particular that captivated me.

The first changing leaf od the year.

I stared and wondered why the change.

As it fell I picked it up from the woodchips, all the attention my body had was focused on this leaf. 

Then I tore it apart.

It was so easy.

It set me free.

I became so dizzy that I collapsed: being set free is not always what the mind needs.

I crawled under the web of bars in a hald sphere pison and looked up at the night sky.

What am I, but just another school child to scar the tree and others to come. 

I wish I were a sycamore tree too.