A sapling,
tender,
raw,
alive,
just born into the realms of time,
Bask it under the rays of love,
Cement it with the pillar of support,
Spray its childhood with the fountain of happiness,
Watch it smile, and flower,
Becomes a tree…
There, it stands tall, amidst the banter of the world,
Gripping roots against storms,
Refuses to sway to devious minds,
Carves out a path on its own,
Sprouts forth with pride,
Yet remaining humble,
Welcomes many a face,
Casts its shadow on weary souls, tired feet,
Who pause for breath on life’s treacherous journey,
Quenches their thirst with a wisp of kindness,
The grains in the hourglass slide through the narrow neck,
The leaves fall, the arms once raised, now bend,
The mind encourages, the body refuses,
No more shadows, no more fruits,
No more the colours it once radiated,
Decadence…
Yet wisdom remains, respect widens…