Seedling Happenstance

They are among us

They live

They breathe

They whisper

But we don’t see them

They beauties that they are

All we notice is

Something blocking our Sun

We see the outside

Rough and dirty

Sometimes ugly

Sometimes not

We think that the inside

Is as the out

Perhaps it is

But perhaps it’s not

Perhaps it’s not.

We cut a path though their land

We destroy nature

Just so others can follow a predestined path

And feel closer to nature

There are millions of them

No one will notice if we cut one down

Each look the same

Each are the same

We think that the inside

Is as the out

Perhaps it is

But perhaps it’s not

Perhaps it’s not.