We begin as a tiny bean,

a black speck inside the womb.

We do not offer much to the world

other than an existence,

yet we cry and wail

for our own survival.

Our life is rooted in the earth, and as

we grow, we stake our piece

of its soft soil.

A sprouting bud needs nurturing;

our pulses depend on another’s compassion.

In our early years,

as our roots are still growing,

selfishness can seize our leaves and

force us to overlook neighboring plants

who are not adapted to

our share of  ground.

While our trunks grow, and

our perspective on life heightens- (literally),

we open our hearts and

support the other beings

who bask in life with us.

Our roots extend to their roots.

Our branches support birds’ nests.

Our leaves provide shelter to other lives.

These acts are not created by us, but

are a part of us. Within us.

Our spirit has an innate sense to

help the surrounding souls, and as

our branches become sturdier,

our leaves become fuller,

we extend our love to more and more

living entities.

Although we may endure rough patches of

bare branches in winter,

we always bloom in spring with new life;

ready to face the sun, again.

When we started, engulfed in soil,

we had only one direction: up.

Yet, as we look back on our lives

with wrinkled trunks and weathered leaves,

we realize this direction was not our choice,

it was humanity’s choice.

If we remained in the soil,

we would have never

shared our roots,

nested those birds,

sheltered other beings.

We would have never lived.