The Tree
I envision it to Nautilus shell, or maybe even an onion,
layer upon layer, year after year.
We become the sum, of these years, like trees, some years are for growth,
some years are for survival.
Like the tree you are drawn to the sunshine, and the forest and the little creek.
The tree is nonplussed by affection.
But show it the right way:
Water it, every day, year after year. And it becomes something mighty.
