I wish I could be the sweet young green
Thing turning its way up through
The dirt
Toward the warmth of sunshine
Or in the rain
Never knowing what is coming
Or what might pluck me
From my rooted needs
Always growing, never knowing
What I have yet to be
Then maybe someday
I will be the faith of a forest
Filled with mighty trees
In a canopy of comfort
Always soaking up the sun
Always drinking up the rain
Splendid in the age
Of the beauty of the growing
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